


Weekender Girl

by LWDY



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Ambiguity, Cynicism, Distrust, F/F, Futa, Futanari, Hatred, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Murder, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jealousy, Loneliness, Mental Health Issues, Musical Composition, Other, Physical Abuse, Romance, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sociopathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-06-06 19:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15201710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LWDY/pseuds/LWDY
Summary: After being used numerous times by her manager and other pop-stars, Hatsune Miku has developed a deep distrust for people. She has cut herself off from friendships and become incredibly solitary in her personal life. Such loneliness drives her into making some questionable decisions...This narrative is far more character driven than any of my previous works. It will still contain my usual writing tropes, but will be presented in a much more serious light. I want the characters to connect with one another through mental interactions first, and then physical later.





	1. Surreptitious

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MikuxLuka401](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikuxLuka401/gifts).



A black, pristine limousine pulls up in front of a large set of gates. The car door swings open and a lovely, young woman steps out on to the pavement. She gently pushes the door closed and gingerly looks down the dark street. There are no other people in sight. Not that she expected there to be any at this hour. A throat clears from the car.

“Remember, you need to be ready at 9AM. No excuses.” 

After her manager issues the command he rolls up the window without even bothering to listen to her response. Hatsune Miku furrows her eyebrows in frustration as she watches the black limousine merge into the darkness of the night. Her limbs are tired, and her motivation is minimal. Though she enjoyed her concert, she has come to realise that performance has become her only real joy as of late. She adores singing and dancing, but nothing else. 

Miku skulks her way over to the gates keypad and punches in a code, making them swing open as the lights in the garden flicker to life. She makes her way down the path, her eyes enamoured with the floor in front of her, not even taking in the illuminated, lush surroundings. The gates clash shut as she reaches the doorway and lets herself in. 

She flicks on the lights and lazily scans the large entrance hall. It is mostly just empty space and pointless items. The walls are scattered with innumerous paintings in which she holds no sentimental value to. A beautiful chandelier illuminates the hall hauntingly, reflecting bright flashes of colour through its many glassy tendrils. They occasionally scatter rainbow-like sparkles throughout the space. Everything is astounding to look at, but Miku couldn’t care less about any of it. 

She hates being home. She hates these walls. She hates the solemn loneliness they demand. It’s inescapable. Coming here and seeing the emptiness makes her think things she would rather avoid having to consider. 

A particularly modern looking pendulum clock chimes loudly, startling her. She looks agitatedly towards it, but softens her expression when she sees why it surprised her. Both clock hands point upwards. 

“Aw, already…” She whines. Though she feels physically tired, she mentally couldn’t be more active. Her mind delves into deep conversations with itself. She questions just about anything she can. She considers damn near any possibility which might occur from the simplest action. Such thinking is far beyond her age. She wants it to stop. 

Finally, she hangs her head back in exasperation and calls out:

“Play TPR!” 

After a moment, music begins to play loudly through the sound system to her left. She heads over to her living room, trying to envelop herself in one of her favourite composers. Slumping on to one of the couches, she rests her head back and stares lifelessly at the ceiling. The music is sombre. An appropriately melancholic atmosphere spreads throughout the house. She figures that if she feels down, she had might as well embrace it and try to relax. 

“…Maybe I need a psychiatrist…” 

Instantly, she dismisses the thought. She doesn’t need somebody to tell her why she feels the way she does. 

“It’s not like they’d actually care anyway…” 

She pulls her cell phone from her pocket. Her finger hovers over the name of a girl she recently toured with: Akari. Miku recommended her to the crew and they took her on board as a supporting act. She became fast friends with Miku, but they haven’t spoken since Akari got hired by a production studio in Saitama. 

“Pause music!” 

She presses the call button.

…

…

“Ughhh, yea?” A grouchy voice comes through the ear-piece.

“Hey Akari, do you have a few minutes?” Miku’s voice is intentionally soft, as she thinks her friend could have been asleep. 

“Well… is it important?” 

“Umm… no… I just wanna talk?” She has never asked Akari for anything before and never really thought she would. After a short silence, she replies:

“…I kind of need to be in the studio really early tomorrow, I’m sorry.” 

Miku gazes blankly at the floor. She speaks with a fairly practiced, and monotonous voice:

“Alright, well I’ll talk to you soon then.”

*beep*

She knows Akari isn’t sorry. It was clear from her voice. Maybe it was because it was so late but… She has a feeling that Akari has already gotten what she wants out of her and probably won’t hear from her for a while.

Miku lazily tosses the phone to the other couch and lays down, resting her head on the arm. Her eyes become fixed on to an absent space in the corner of the room. Her mind reels again. A dim pain creeps into her temples and slowly pulses in time with her heartbeat. Tonight is going to be a long night. 

*

“I love you, Miku!”

“YE-AH!”

The roar of the crowd deafens the teenagers ears. She has never understood this strange pedestal her fans have placed her on. It has always brought about an unusual disconnect. She would rather they all treat her the same as they would any other person. However, if she says this to them, they only become more excitable and reverent of her.

She has given up on being herself to her fans. In all honesty, she likes being “Hatsune Miku”. She likes being this optimistic, needlessly cheery individual when performing and talking to her audience. It, however, makes life all the more jarring when she’s on her own. When around nobody else, and with nobody to act like “Miku” around, she feels lost. 

The audience reaches up to her with prying hands and adoring eyes. She inwardly smiles when she notices a separate booth containing a few disabled fans. She gives them a bright beam and waves in their general direction. 

“Are you ready?!” 

The noise is intolerable. 

She loves it. 

*

“Good luck!” Miku calls to the next act as she heads to her private changing room. The three girls smile sweetly and bow before gliding towards the stage. She watches them curiously, thrown off by their juxtaposing image. They are all incredibly moe, but dressed in an all-black and red, goth-like attire. It’s a great look that brings a smile to her face. 

“Head out of the clouds! Some of us have jobs to do and could do without you standing in the way.” Comes the familiar voice of her manager: Touma – the man from the limousine. Miku nods and slinks into her designated room. 

“Good day Ms. Hatsune.” 

“Ah!” 

A middle-aged man laughs at Miku’s shock.

“My apologies, your manager said I could wait in here.”

“Oh did he now?” She doesn’t try to hide her scepticism. 

“Yes. To get to the point, might I suggest we take a seat?” He gestures to a small table. Miku glares back at him.

“Cut it out, I know you aren’t allowed in here.” 

“…That’s no way to talk to a friendly businessman now is it?” His tone is composed and very rehearsed.

“Please leave. I just saw Touma, and he said nothing about you.” 

His smile starts to fade. 

“I think you are being overly paranoid Ms. Hatsune, I am merely here to offer you-“

“-I think I’ll take my chances.” She calmly gestures to the door. He looks over her small frame in scrutiny, clearly trying to produce an appropriate response. After a few seconds, he shakes his head defeatedly and heads to the exit. Just before pulling the door open, he turns to her and speaks:

“I hope that whatever is troubling you gets resolved.” 

No more words are spoken as he leaves. She locks the door behind him. His kind always appear. More suits looking for ways to bulk up their balance. They have always tricked her with lies and deceit. Touma was no exception. She didn’t read the fine print and is now locked into a long contract with his company, gaining far less income than she should. Fortunately, it’s still enough to buy and own many extravagant things. Though, as time passes, she’s come to realise that she doesn’t even care about the money. 

Maybe the man from just now was telling the truth. Maybe not. Either way she’s trapped with Touma. This ordeal just brings about a phrase she has tried to follow since she fell into this business: don’t trust those that you have no reason to. 

Unluckily for her, it seems like that is everyone – even those who would befriend her. 

*

She finds herself checking in to a sub-par hotel in Osaka. Everything is clean and mostly tidy, but it isn’t all that fancy. It seems like the owners don’t put any effort into things they don’t need to. She doesn’t mind all that much, after all, things could be far worse. 

After a surprisingly relaxing shower, she puts on a cute, baby-blue nightgown, pulls open the curtains and gazes out of the window. She is on the 18th floor and can see many colourful lights still flickering and keeping the city alight with life. Her mind trails into one of its usual thought tangents – only this time they’re about her mother. ‘What would she be doing now?’ ‘Would she have let me join his company?’ ‘Would she be proud of what I’ve become?’ 

“What have you become?” She blurts out to herself. ‘Am I really paranoid?’ ‘I think I have the right to be if I am…’

“Ugh, lemme outta here.” She whines and flops back on to the bed, arms spread out in exaggeration. Her neck relaxes and falls to the side, which puts a clock into her vision.

“Geez, 10 already…” Her eyes glance over to her nearly untouched suitcase – all she has taken out are her bathroom necessities. She sees the sleeve of her favourite dress peeking out of it. Forcing herself upright, she sighs deeply and heads over to the curtains, sliding them shut. She then retrieves the dress. 

After slipping it on, she steps in front of the full body mirror and makes an approving sound. She twists around, examining herself from each angle she can. This dress unfortunately never sees the light of day however, due to the emphasis it brings to an area that the world doesn’t need to know about. Wearing a fluttery skirt with shorts underneath usually does a good enough job of hiding it, but it’s a touch too obvious in this – especially from the side. 

Even though she doesn’t wear the dress, she likes to keep it with her on her travels because it once belonged to her mom. 

“Hmmm…” An idea springs into her mind. ‘I can wear it if people don’t know it’s me…’ Instead of putting her hair back into its iconic twin-tail, she leaves it down to rest over her shoulders and down her back. She gives herself an elegant twirl. The sheer untamed length of her locks comes as a surprise, having become so accustomed to them reacting in a specific way when she moves. Now, her hair just seems to want to get everywhere it shouldn’t. She puts her fists on her hips in frustration and even finds her hair somehow getting caught between her fingers. 

Quickly, she retrieves a make-up kit from her suitcase. Typically, she favours a natural look, but decides to try and make herself look more mature. She wants to experiment for a change, after all, she doesn’t want people to recognise her. 

Upon seeing herself in the mirror, she is surprised at how massive the transformation is. What she sees isn’t Miku. She feels her lips curl into a smile, but then immediately stops herself. It is a huge giveaway. ‘Don’t smile.’ 

She feels a rush of excitement spread from her chest, to the tips of her fingers. ‘I’m going to go out!’ She has no idea what she’s going to do, but the thought is intoxicating nonetheless. As she steps out of the door, a nervousness she didn’t know she could feel makes her go all timid. ‘Just to be safe I’ll keep my hands here’. She moves her hands together in front of her hips and makes her way to the elevator. When she gets outside, there are a surprising number of people still walking about. Though she receives a few second glances, it seems that her little disguise is working.

Not that it matters, as soon enough, the novelty wears off and she finds herself returning to her usual mood. She aimlessly wanders around and thinks. She thinks some more. And then even more.

“You lost?” Calls a sultry female voice to her right. Miku jumps in surprise and then smiles uncomfortably. Her eyes widen in shock when she realises what she’d just done and instantly attempts to frown. The unknown woman laughs boisterously, echoing down the now empty street. 

“It’s alright kitten, I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thank you.” Miku turns to head back, thinking what she’s doing is pointless, but is halted by the woman. 

“Hold on sweetie.” She steps forward and stands only a few inches from Miku. She towers over the her and looks to be at least half a foot taller. She continues:

“Pop-star like you must be pretty rich then… huh?” 

The blue-haired girl tries to look neutral, but inwardly thinks the worst: ‘She wants to rob me’. 

“Not really…”

“Come on now, I ain’t gonna steal from ya…” 

Miku remains sceptical. 

“I don’t think anyone knows you have that dick though…” The woman’s eyes flick down to the girl’s crotch. 

The pop-star visibly recoils at the word and notices that her hands have been at her sides for a while.

“Shhh!” Her eyes are pleading, quickly covering the subtle bulge. 

The woman chuckles.

“Don’t you worry, like I said, not a soul.” 

After a moment, curiosity takes hold of Miku.

“What is it that you want?” 

The woman eyes scan up and down her body again, though her demeanour suddenly seems a little more judgemental now.

“It doesn’t matter, I’ve just remembered… aren’t you like 15 or something?” 

“16…”

“Whatever, it still wouldn’t feel right.” The woman’s tone has become much more dismissive. 

“Are you a…”

“Prostitute? Yes. Now would you scram.” 

Miku half-heartedly turns around and trudges back the way she came, soon re-enveloped by a familiar feeling. The woman seemed so interested when she thought money was involved… Abruptly, a crazy idea comes to the pop-star’s mind. She spins around and jogs back her. 

“Hey! Let me pay you!” 

“Are you stupid, kid?” She snaps in frustration. 

“Probably. Please let me? I just want someone to talk to…” 

“Doesn’t someone like you have enough people to talk to?” Her tone is simply rude at this point. 

“Please?” 

“… Fine, the name’s Gianna.” 

*

When they get back to Miku’s room, Gianna immediately flings herself on to the bed. ‘Make yourself comfortable…’ The blue-haired girl mutters to herself sarcastically. 

“So, oral is ¥10,000, vaginal is ¥20,000 and anal is ¥30,000. I’m charging male rates because of… y’know. Money comes first too.” 

“Umm, I don’t mind which one you charge me for…” Miku sounds weak. 

“¥30,000 it is then. That’s for 30 minutes by the way.” 

“Alright.” The pop-star dashes over to her suitcase and pulls out the funds. She brings the wad of cash to Gianna and smiles as she holds it forward. The prostitute gives an obviously false smile back and snatches the money. As Miku turns and heads to the seat in the corner, she swears she hears the woman mutter something under her breath. Something about “rich girl’s”. A small beeping sound comes from Gianna, probably indicating a timer. The pop-star pushes her hair so that it all falls down one side of her body, and slides herself into the comfortable chair. A distinctive awkwardness crawls up her spine. 

They sit in silence. 

Now that Miku has finally got someone who will listen, she doesn’t know where to begin. She racks her brain for ways to start a conversation. Having become so accustomed to talking to people as Hatsune Miku, she finds herself struggling to actually know how to be herself. 

“So, ummm. I think you’re uhh… pretty.” The blue-haired girl chuckles gawkily. 

A distinctly impatient look flashes across Gianna’s face. Miku defensively crosses her arms. 

“Being famous isn’t all that you know…” 

The prostitute silently raises her eyebrows. 

“I-I know that must sound kinda silly, but…” A vulnerable warmth begins gnawing its way into her chest. 

“It’s hard to find someone to become friends with…” 

“Uh-huh.” Gianna impatiently nods, looking out of the window. Miku focuses her eyes to the floor by the bed and subconsciously starts fiddling with her hair. 

“You’ll probably call me over-suspicious, but it’s like people only want to be around me when it benefits them?” Though the sentence is inflected like a question, she isn’t expecting a response and continues anyway: 

“I try to be kind to people, I really do… But I honestly don’t want to be anymore.” Miku tears her eyes from the floor back up to Gianna. The woman is blankly staring at a nail in the wall. The pop-star soon realises that she’d might as well be talking to herself… but at least she’s starting to feel a little bit better. 

“Why should I be kind to those who don’t deserve it? To those who don’t want to listen?” Miku soon gets into a tangent. The more and more she speaks, the easier the words come out. Soon enough, she forgets completely that Gianna is there, despite occasionally looking her way and hearing her half-hearted attempts at seeming interested.

“And my mom was alw-“

*Beep* 

Miku is cut off by a sound coming from the woman’s wrist. 

“That’s thirty minutes, doll.” She stands up and stretches her arms up to the ceiling, closing her eyes whilst she does it. When they re-open, she jolts at Miku’s sudden proximity. 

“I’m sorry, you must have been bored.” The top of her head only reaches Gianna’s neck, as she looks up with big, blue, apologetic eyes. 

“Hey, you wanted someone to talk to, and that’s what you got.” 

“Yea…” The blue-haired girl looks down at her hands. The older woman pats her on the shoulder and makes her way to the door.

“Wait!” 

Miku starts fiddling with her own hair again, not looking at the frozen woman.

“Can I… hug you?” She feels stupid after she says it, and feels a hot blush boiling in her face. 

“Alright, kid.” She turns and holds her arms out. It’s clear she doesn’t want to, but probably feels bad for not really listening to the girl. The pop-star brings her arms up and walks like a child into Gianna's arms. 

The last person she hugged was her mother, just before she died a year ago. The immediate closeness is strange. It doesn’t feel right to her and so she pulls back rather quickly. 

“Umm, thank you.” She looks up into the taller woman’s eyes and gives her a friendly, but false smile. Gianna furrows her eyebrows. Miku can’t detect what emotion is coming from her. 

“Get a therapist.” With that, she spins around and takes her leave. The blue-haired girl stares at the door after it shuts. 

“Tch…” She sneers to herself. Though, despite being so obviously condescended, Miku can’t deny that talking to someone has helped, if only for a little bit. She isn’t angry at Gianna for her behaviour, after all, most prostitutes get treated like dirt as far as she’s aware. 

“I think… I’ll keep doing this, I have a good feeling about it.” 

From then on, once every weekend, Miku would actively seek out a prostitute from a city in Japan and talk to them. She never considers the sexual release typically associated with their profession and only focuses on venting her mind to them. More often than not, the women tend to act like blank slates during their sessions. They just want to wait out their allotted time and collect their pay, then leave immediately. Rarely, a woman shows some minimal interest, but never do they attempt to comfort, or offer solutions to her problems. Many of them even get bored and try to get the pop-star to actually have sex with them, though she always politely refuses. Regardless, Miku remembers every one of them; Gianna, Bailey, Asa, Natalie, Kotomi and Momoka. 

After 5 weeks, she begins to feel a hunger growling in her stomach. Again, not for physical interactions, but mental ones. She wants more, she wants to truly connect with someone, she wants a friend… ‘Maybe I’m looking in the wrong profession’… 

Miku checks into a hotel in Tokyo and decides that tonight will be the final time she buys a prostitute. She only hopes to find a girl that she can finally become friends with.


	2. Megurine Luka

Miku quietly sits on the hotel couch with her knees up and her arms wrapped around them. The seat is so big compared to her that her feet don’t even come close to the edge. Her icy blue eyes gaze intently at the fireplace. It is a stark contrast to her. The bright and warm colours twist and dance, casting shadows of varying sizes throughout the lightless room. She thinks of how open the flames look. How bold they are. How simple, yet fierce they appear. 

She hugs her knees tighter, hiding her chin between them. 

Miku feels an odd, jealous-like bubble in her chest. She stares at the beautiful flames with a swelling bitterness, whilst they continue their lively movements. Abruptly, she jolts up and heads to the kitchen. After snatching up a jug of water, she stomps back into the front room and launches the entire thing into the dancing warmth. It shatters against the metal caging that contains the flames and scatters into tiny glass shards across the floor. A portion of the water even splashes back over herself. 

The flame looks unphased. 

“Stupid fire…” Miku skulks off into the bedroom. She flicks the light on and begrudgingly starts looking for more clothes.

“It’s fine, I was going to get changed anyway.” She boasts to no-one. As she rummages through her suitcase, her fingers touch a familiar fabric, she pulls out the dress that belonged to her Mom. She hasn’t worn this since she hired Gianna. 

It’s strange. 

Whenever she sees it now she becomes overcome with a nonsensical guilt. She suspects she feels ashamed with what she’s been doing. Not that she could really tell anymore. As the weeks have passed, she has begun to feel more and more detached with herself. She has begun doubting that she even has any personality left, though usually laughs at herself afterwards, mocking the thought.

Returning the dress to the suitcase, she soon finds a much more suitable attire. Seeing as it’s her last night hiring women for their ears, she figures she won’t bother to try and hide who she is and picks something much more casual – casual for her anyway. At least she still has the motivation to appreciate her appearance, but who knows how long that’ll last.

When she thinks she looks appropriately cute, she leaves the hotel without bothering to pick up the messes she’s caused. Her attire is akin to one of her typical skirt and shirt combinations, with the usual precautions made to hide her non-female parts. The clock in the entrance to the building informs her that it is almost 10:30PM. ‘Alright then, let’s go get ignored.’

*

A slender woman, dressed in a dark and charming, but worn dress, leans against a stone wall on the side of a particularly grim looking street. Her body occasionally trembles and her breath is white. She lifts her hands, bringing them close to her lips, and blows on them. A slight warmth temporarily spreads through her fingers. She rubs them together and tries to keep them from going stiff. 

Glancing up and down the street, her hope for the night begins to dwindle. The roads have become increasingly sparse of people and she starts to think it might be better if she just goes home. Then her mind is filled with what awaits her. 

“Just a little more…” 

She untucks her lively pink hair from behind her ears and lets it fall down and frame her face. As though spiting her, the wind nastily whips against her cheeks. The cold is so intense it feels as though the gust rips into her skin. Accompanying this wind is a small figure. She makes out incredibly long, twin-tailed hair: blue from the looks of it. Smirking, she watches the short girl come closer, believing that she’s hit the jackpot. 

“You seem a touch lost there.” She intended for her tone to be confident, but it wavers inelegantly. Fortunately, the shorter girl doesn’t seem to care. Getting closer, the blue-haired girl speaks in a rather tired voice. 

“Lost? I don’t think so… this is still Tokyo right?” 

She replies with an odd hesitance: 

“Uhh… yeah, barely…. do I know you?” Her eyes search the shorter girl, trying to find the answer. 

“You like music?” She asks while attempting to supress a smile.

The taller girl furrows her eyebrows intensely. Then she realises. 

“Oh…” An unexpected expression appears on her face. It seems negative in nature. Miku is actually a little saddened by the woman’s reaction.

“I’m sorry…” 

“Don’t be.” The woman in black’s tone seems quite dry now. She continues:

“What are you doing so far from the main city? Don’t you have security or something?” 

Miku hangs her head, much like a puppy being scolded would. 

“I’m just, y’know…” 

“I don’t know.” The taller girl says with a cynical firmness. Miku lifts her head rather suddenly. Their blue eyes meet properly for the first time. The blue-haired girl sees a hint of violet in the stranger’s eyes, it is only subtle, but she likes the fact that it’s there. That subtlety is the only difference from her own. 

“Are you available for hire?” The pop-star asks with a newfound confidence. 

“…Yes…” She drags her eyes up and down the shorter girl, sensing something more. Miku discerns this.

“I would like to use only your ears please, is that okay?” 

“My ears?!”

“Ah! Not for anything like that! Just talking, I promise!” Miku panics. 

Another juxtaposing mood flashes on to the taller woman’s face. It is calculating, but not cold. It is surprised, but controlled. The pop-star brings her hands together nervously, waiting for an answer. 

“My name is Megurine Luka, but I prefer just Luka, is that okay?” She asks with a tease. Miku smiles up at her heartily. Seeing the expression makes Luka unable to stop herself from cracking one too. 

*

“You must have seen a lot of my colleagues when you passed Kabukichō, why didn’t you choose any of them?” The woman in black asks as they head back to the hotel. 

Miku avoids Luka’s face while she tries to find the right words.

“Well… this is my last time hiring and I… wanted someone with the right eyes…” 

The taller one pauses and stares at her. Miku also stops almost immediately, turning around and bringing her hands together in front of her hips. Luka considers her words. Eventually, she smiles calmly, and takes stride again. 

“What makes mine special?” Her tone is a blend of confidence and softness that Miku finds herself beguiled with. 

“Umm, it’s embarrassing…” 

“Hey, you want some ears, right?” She points up to her own with a smirk. The pop-star chuckles.

“I guess I do… your eyes look… sad-“ Miku spots her face fall suddenly and so quickly continues:

“-but warm. I know you’ll listen to me.” 

Luka lets the words swim around her mind. Before she knows it, a full minute has passed. Miku whispers:

“I’m sorry…” 

“Stop saying that.” 

“A-alright.” Miku stutters. 

“Okay, listen.” Luka stops and puts a firm hand on the back of the girl’s shoulder. Her fingers gently pry at her, asking her to turn around. Miku quietly obliges.

“I can see that there’s clearly something going on up here-“ She softly pokes the pop-star in the forehead.

“-and I am not sure how helpful I can be for whatever that may be. So please, don’t expect too much from me.” 

Miku blankly looks up into Luka’s blue-violet eyes. The pop-star’s face is child-like. It’s like she’s lost. It’s a face that wrenches at Luka’s heartstrings. Slowly, a peaceful look forms on Miku’s face.

“I trust you.” She walks towards the woman with her fingertips slightly raised. Before Luka can react, Miku’s fingers have gently enveloped her own. She tugs the taller girl forward, once again leading the way to the hotel. It is only now that she has felt the warmth on her hand that Luka remembers how cold it is. 

An overwhelmingly strong response gets caught in Luka’s throat: ‘Maybe you shouldn’t trust me…’ A powerful discomfort surges through her. It doesn’t feel right. Whatever this girl has been through, she must be helped through it - correctly. An unwanted pressure makes itself known in her chest. 

*

“Luka?”

“Hm?”

The two of them lay next to one another, one foot apart, on Miku’s large hotel bed. The light is off and the curtains are drawn shut. 

“Why were you so far out of the main city?”

Luka’s mind fumbles for a second. 

“…Clients from the city are… they treat us like we are nothing.” 

“I’m s-“ Miku cuts herself off. The woman in black turns to her and smiles encouragingly. The pop-star nervously looks away, trying to think of a way to change to subject. 

“You know you payed me to listen to you, right? Not the other way around.” 

“Y-yeah…” 

“Then tell me what you need to.” After speaking, Luka puts her hands behind her head and looks up to the ceiling. Miku rolls on to her side and faces her. She can just make out her face in the blackness. 

“Actually… if it’s okay, I’d like to know more about you.” 

“…If that’s what you want.” An apprehensive response. 

The blue-haired girl nods. After a moment, she asks:

“Why do you have sad eyes?” 

Luka considers her words.

“Why do you think?” 

“…You don’t want to be a prostitute?” 

The taller girl winces at the word.

“Who does? And please, call me an escort.” 

“Okay… but you didn’t really answer my first question…” 

Luka sighs in frustration.

“Listen, this isn’t therapy, alright?” She snaps at the smaller girl. Miku feels herself recoil slightly. Luka lifts a hand and covers her own eyes, forcing herself to relax. 

“Sorry, Miku. But not that. Not yet.”

“Okay…” 

Luka hates the way Miku says that. It’s so innocent - so puerile sounding. She hates how it hits her harder than it should. She lowers her hand. 

Miku uncertainly brings her fingers up and places them on Luka’s open palm. The recipient can feel a very slight tremble coming from the smaller girl. She softly squeezes her fingers reassuringly. They lay together like this, listening to one another’s quiet breathing. Luka can feel a faint pulse through the tip of one of Miku’s fingers. 

“Miku, you’re quite good at hiding who you are.” 

The pop-star makes a dumb, but endearing sound in confusion. 

“I’m quite sure that the news would love to home in you if they found out that this is how you behave. It’s honestly quite the contrast.” 

Miku noiselessly nods in understanding.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. Make no mistake, I have noticed that a few of your lyrics have some subtly doleful undertones.”

“There’re a lot of things that people don’t know.” 

Luka’s ears perk up even more. 

“Like?” 

The blue-haired girl scans her face and then looks deep into her eyes. She speaks without breaking her gaze:

“I am a futanari.” 

Luka gives her an expression of disbelief. 

“Now how on Earth have you hidden that for so long?” 

Miku laughs, more out of relief than anything. 

“You don’t discriminate against my kind?” 

“I’d be a walking contradiction if I did.” Her voice is that same addictive blend of confidence and softness. 

“You are also a…?”

“Yes… it’s one of the reasons why I attract so many…” From the way Luka trails off, Miku can tell that this is something that she doesn’t want to continue talking about. Regardless, the pop-star somehow feels more secure upon knowing this fact. Luka sits up. 

“Miku, can I offer you some advice?” 

“Please, yes.” There is an unmistakeable desperation hidden in her voice as she too sits up, her hand still entwined with Luka’s. 

“Find someone.” 

Miku stares at her, befuddled. 

“But, how did you-“

The pink-haired girl interrupts with a voice that has lost its softness:

“-know that you have no-one? Because you are holding a strangers hand. Because you have divulged so many intimate details to this stranger so quickly. Because this stranger has seen Hatsune Miku on television – in interviews – and you are not her.” 

Miku’s eyes lose their confused look. Instead, they are filled with a haunting vacancy. This expression stirs something in Luka. 

“Oh, come here.” 

She brings Miku’s head to her chest and holds her tight in her arms. 

“It’s alright…” 

The pop-star’s eyes remain open, gazing blankly into a gap between Luka’s chest and one of her arms. 

“Y’know Miku, when I realised it was you earlier, I was filled with spite. An unnecessary jealousy akin to a mid-schooler. I’m 20 and I shouldn’t act like that. Make no mistake, I am very glad that I gave you a chance.”

She feels Miku’s arms gently embracing her, so she continues:

“When you first started to hold my hand, I felt a little scared. I still do now actually. I want to be honest, because someone like you clearly deserves it more than anybody else on this Earth. I am scared of the pressure that letting you into my life will bring. But at the same time, I want to help you… but my help is not what you need. You need to find someone who can truly offer you what you need.” 

Miku lifts her head up to look Luka straight in the eyes. Her blue-eyes look to be slightly blood-shot, but the darkness could be playing tricks on her vision. She can, however make out a pained expression on her face. Finally, Miku speaks:

“I HAVE found someone…” 

Luka smiles. It is a kind expression. It is loving. It is motherly. 

“Help me, please?” Miku squeezes back into the woman as she pleads. 

“Ugh, you had me just by looking at me with those eyes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should hopefully be out next week!


	3. A Slender Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember that I use apostrophes for internal thinking. Eg: 'I am thinking about Monika.'  
> As opposed to the typical speech marks I use for dialogue. Eg: "I am talking to Monika."

Another day passes without seeing Luka. Each minute is unbearable. At first, Miku was just happy knowing that she had her in her life, but as more time passed, that happiness became enveloped with an all too familiar grey cloud. Even concerts have become less enjoyable and cracks have begun to show in her pop-star persona. 

“Touma wants to see you.” 

Miku nods blandly. She has become so tired. Trying so hard to be who she thinks she should be has started taking its toll on her. It has been a whole week since she saw Luka. The only emotion she feels lately is anger. Sometimes she feels like she’s been betrayed. The more she thinks about it, the more passionate her rage becomes… but she must quell it. For her fans. For Luka. Luka wouldn’t cancel plans unless she had a truly good reason to. She must trust her, even though it’s so difficult to do so.

“The capacity was 70,000 today you know.” Touma states firmly as Miku enters the room.

“I know…” She takes a seat opposite him.

“So can you tell me why Hatsune Miku was not performing for those people? Those paying people.” He gestures dramatically to prove his point. His eyes are invasive. 

“I…”

“You…?” Touma’s patience diminishes with each second. Instead of giving him a valid reason, she just tries to think of a way to calm him.

“I will try harder.” 

He simply closes his eyes and looks away. 

“Ms. Hatsune, earlier today you were staring at the floor for an entire minute whilst you were supposed to be performing. This was a live show. People notice these things. Important people.” 

The gravity of his words should affect her more… but they don’t. 

“You will be relieved of our label if you do not get your act together – if you do not start being who you are supposed to be.” 

“…Yes sir.” 

His eyes show a dramatic disbelief at her lack of energy. He angrily motions to the door she came from, indicating it’s time for her to leave. 

Once she leaves the room, she sees her friend Akari waiting a little ways down the hall. 

“Hi Miku!” Fake enthusiasm. 

“Hello again.” Miku tries to smile. She thinks she does it properly, but judging by Akari’s strange expression, it seems she probably looks weird and stops. 

Akari is an incredibly pretty girl, it’s no wonder the label picked her up so soon after Miku suggested her to them. Her style isn’t too dissimilar from her own. In fact, her hair has even been styled into twin-tails…

“Touma being a grouch again, huh?” Though the sentence seems innocent enough, she speaks it in a weird sympathetic voice.

“Yea…”

A deadly silence echoes through the hallway. 

“Well, see ya later then!” Akari cutely lifts her hand and waves, before making her way straight into Touma’s office. 

“Tch…” Miku turns around and makes her way to the main exit. The sooner she’s away from people, the better. 

*

Miku puts her phone down onto the arm of the couch. She’d just been staring blankly at the message screen anyway. She taps play on the video she was watching on her laptop earlier. 

♫Awaa awaa awadama fever♫

She smiles at the three familiar girls on the screen. They are a successful group she has had the privilege of meeting a few times. Sadly, she hasn’t had a chance to properly talk with them, and it’s a shame because they’ve always been very kind to her in their brief exchanges. Watching how happy they are on stage always manages to bring a smile to her face, if only for a few seconds. She wants to be like that again.

Her phone buzzes once. 

“Ahh!” She squeals in a sudden surge of excitement. The text reads: I’ll be with you soon. Please wait at your gates at 8PM xx

Miku’s eyes immediately dash to the time. 

“Aww, 4 hours from now!” She childishly sinks into her seat and makes a ridiculous ‘bleehhh’ sound. Still, an undeniable happiness sends warm shivers through her body. They have only met two times so far; the first being in Tokyo, and the second was here at her home. Tokyo is incredibly far from Miku’s place so Luka must get a plane, though cost is surprisingly not an issue. That is because Miku snuck a massive amount of money into Luka’s bag last time, much to her disapproval when she found out. 

The phone vibrates again: And don’t even think about paying me this time, especially after that last stunt you pulled xx

Miku replies: Sorry! See you soon! xxx

It was around ¥400,000. She doesn’t care how much she gives, she just wants to make Luka’s life easier. 

*

7:45PM

Miku clicks her fingers in her bedroom. After a second of mechanical clicking, her wardrobe swishes open and a number of clothing racks slide out at either side of her. 

“Hmmm… I want…” She drags her hands along the many stylistic and varied items of clothing she’s gathered throughout the years. 

“Blue.” The wardrobe immediately withdraws all items without a blue pigment in them. She laughs, never getting tired of this house’s technology.

“Hmmm… and white!” Items of this colour join the blues. 

“And purple!” 

She scours long and hard, trying to come up with the cutest combination to wear for Luka. 

“Pink!” 

“Hey yeah, she has violet-ey blue eyes and pink hair!” She picks a beautiful, poofy dress and takes it to the mirror. She reaches high up and the machine slides it over her body. After faffing with the sleeves, she looks at herself. 

The neck is quite low, but she doesn’t mind as it is quite tight on the chest - which doesn’t particularly stand out much anyway. The colour goes from a deep blue and gradually becomes lighter as it poofs out and stops at her mid-thigh. A single white line accents the hem of the skirt. A small, thin violet line goes down the inner and outer parts of the arms, which stops just before her elbow, leaving her forearms bare. Finally, a little turquoise bow sits just below her chest, and matches her hair perfectly. 

“Shoes!” The machinery whirrs back into life and retracts the rest of her clothing. After another moment, a ludicrously large number of shoes are brought forward in an open glass case to the centre of the room. She immediately snatches up a white pair of knee-high boots, knowing exactly what she wants now. After lacing them up, she walks to her accessory cabinet and selects two pink bows – the same type as the one on her dress, and ties them to the top of the boots with a thin ribbon of the same colour. 

“Eee, I love it!” She beams at her reflection, genuinely happy at the sight of herself. After a little giggle, she clicks her fingers – which returns everything back to the wardrobe, and heads down to meet Luka. 

8:05PM

Miku sits on the ground at the side of the gate with her knees up to her chest, staring up and down the almost black road. The sun has just disappeared behind the horizon, but the street-lights haven’t started up yet. Every time a vehicle comes on to the road, she feels a growing excitement, only to be promptly disappointed yet again. 

And again. 

And again. 

Passing people give her strange looks, but she quite literally ignores their existence as soon as she realises they aren’t who she wants. 

9:35

“You aren’t pretending to sleep to make me feel worse, right?” 

Miku’s eyes snap open. Her face is resting against the dirty floor along with the full right side of her dress. 

“Luka!” The pop-star literally jumps up and on to the woman. 

“Woah, hi there.” Luka chuckles uncomfortably. The cab driver behind her raises his eyebrows perversely, before driving away. Miku quickly lets go.

“Ahaha, sorry…” 

“It’s alright, Miku” Luka’s voice is just like Miku remembered it. So soothing and secure. 

“Aww, you’ve got all this dirt on you…” Luka sounds apologetic. Miku jumps in realisation and looks down at her dress. 

“Oh no!” She wails. 

“Come on now, it’s just dry stuff, we can get that off in no time.” 

Miku instantly calms down and smiles dreamily at the taller girl, then nods her head. Her cheek is dusty and her hair somehow has leaves in it. 

“Miku, I’m sorry. Did you not get my message?” 

Suddenly the pop-star feels stupid. Her phone is still in the bedroom. 

“Umm…” 

Luka just holds her arms forward, knowing Miku wants another hug. The blue-haired girl shyly slides forward, quietly embracing her. 

“I’m here now.” Luka consoles the girl, lightly stroking her messy hair. Miku smushes her face into the warm cushiony chest and loses her voice.

“Straight into silent mode are you? That’s alright, I’ve got you. Come on, let’s go inside.” When Luka tries to pull away, Miku clearly tries to stop her, but gives in after a second. Luka holds her elbow out. The popstar immediately grabs on with two hands, almost cowering next to the woman. 

“Hmmm, what was the gate code again…?” Luka thinks out loud, not actually asking Miku, but trying to remember of her own volition. 

“Ah yes…” She punches in the letters: FFVIII. 

*

“It’s nice to walk in and not see something broken this time.” States Luka with a genuine smile. Miku squeezes her arm in response - it feels almost like a silent apology. 

“Hey, we all need to get our anger out somehow.”

Luka leads the way upstairs, but then abruptly stops and gives Miku a slightly embarrassed look. 

“Which was the bathroom again?” She asks while stifling a laugh. The blue-haired girl looks to a room with a white door to their right.

“Gotcha.” With her free hand, she pushes the door open and brings Miku over to the bath tub, indicating for her to sit on the side, which she does. 

“Let’s get you fixed up.” Luka calmly raises a hand towards Miku’s twin-tails. This time, they are held in place by two purple hair ties. She carefully retrieves them and hands them to Miku, who tosses them towards the little cabinet above the sink. Luka gives her a disapproving look. Miku just pulls an immature face back. The former shakes her head with a laugh and then works at smoothing out the girls hair with her fingers. 

“How on earth did you manage to get a birds nest worth of things in your hair by just laying down…?” She delicately picks out tiny leaves and other unpleasantries from the bright hair. Miku likes the way it feels. All of this fussing and attention makes her happy. It brings her back to better times, before everything went wrong. Luka picks up a little cloth from the sink and runs it under some warm water. Miku pushes her long hair back behind her ears.

“Thank you.” Luka says warmly, wringing out the cloth. Carefully, she brings it up to her face and begins to wipe away the dirt, whilst softly holding the other cheek. Her touch is euphoric to Miku. She happily watches Luka’s focussed expression. 

“There we go! Now the rest.” The taller girl stands back and scans her eyes up and down Miku’s dress and legs. It’s honestly not all that bad, nothing a quick shower won’t fix, but she feels like toying with the girl. 

“…The rest?” Miku looks down and wipes away most of the dusty earth.

“Oh yes, it’s very bad on your back.” Luka says dramatically.

“…But, I didn’t-“

“-Come on, let’s take that dress off.” She raises her hands and curls her fingers into a mock attacking position. 

“Umm, okay…” Miku sounds so submissive that Luka’s face falls sympathetically. 

“Hey, I was kidding…” She lowers her hands. 

The pop-star’s lips curve only slightly at the ends. 

“Oh.” 

Luka looks at her affectionately.

“You do need to change though.” 

Miku nods contently and stands upright. She raises her arms high up, waiting patiently for some assistance. 

“Come on Mikuuu…” Luka laughs. Though this behaviour melts her heart, she knows that her acting like this won’t help her in the long haul. Nevertheless, she takes the bottom of Miku’s dress and slowly begins lifting it up. Luka can’t help but let her eyes wander a little. She looks over the blue-haired girl’s thin, yet slightly curvy shape. It’s undeniably attractive to her. In the brief moment of looking, Luka tries to take in as many details as she can about her body, before pulling the dress over her head. Quickly, she looks away, trying not to get caught. She doesn’t want Miku to feel any more weird about this than she has to. 

“It’s okay… you can look…” Miku’s delivery is delicate, but undeniably certain. 

“Sorry, Miku.” Luka turns away and tosses the dress on to the hamper in the corner before continuing:

“You go ahead and shower, I promise I’ll be here when you get out.” The escort walks out and heads into the bedroom, which can be directly seen from the shower. Miku looks down at her hands and starts fiddling with her fingers again. 

*

“I gotta try this…” 

Luka clicks her fingers. Sure enough, the wardrobe ejects clothing rails from the wall and stop at either side of her. Her eyes widen in wonder. 

“Hooo this rules…” She gawks at the sheer quantity of clothes before her. Unsurprisingly, most of them are rather eccentric in design. So many types of skirts… So many pristine dresses… On her last visit, Miku told her she has free access to her clothes at any given time. That’s one of the reasons Luka didn’t bother to bring any. It’s only now that she realises that Miku’s clothing could possibly be a little… tight in certain areas. 

“Oouh, this is cute…” A lovely, violet, strapless dress catches her eye. It has a flared bottom that starts to poof out at the hips and stops at the middle of the thighs. She picks it up and heads over to a mirror. 

“Hmm…” She holds it in front of her body. After agreeing with it, she removes her usual black dress and drops it to the ground. She decides to keep on her thigh high black boots as they look like they could match it rather well. After much struggling, she manages to fasten the front together and scrutinises her reflection. It is unbelievably tight… Her chest is pushed up rather clearly making her already sizeable breasts quite impossible to miss. Her hips strain against the fabric, which – even in this poofy dress – brings attention to her non-feminine crotch. 

“Well I can’t deny that it’s a good look… even if it hurts like hell.” She scours her curves in appreciation before giving herself a confident, cheeky wink and giggling. Her beautifully long hair rests unkempt over her shoulders, and down her back. Its length pales in comparison to Miku’s, but its vibrancy is just as, if not more brilliant. She walks over to a large case filled with bows and ribbons. After a moment of contemplation, she picks out two yellow bows: one large, and the other small – one for the dress, and the other for her hair. 

“Ahh, I love it!” She twirls elegantly. 

“You look… amazing!” Miku speaks from the doorway in a reverent awe. Luka grins shamelessly.

“I know!” 

The pop-star watches her, feeling a little pang of something in her stomach. Jealousy? Maybe… She walks over to the bed and sprawls across it, her towel still wrapped around her body. Her hair is dripping wet. 

“Aww come on now, you’re gonna wet the bed!” 

The pop-star laughs childishly. Luka realises what she just said and scolds her:

“Don’t be childish. Up!” 

The wet girl reluctantly sits up and wriggles over to the edge of the bed, letting her legs hang from the end. Luka comes up and takes a seat next to her. The pink-haired girl finds herself becoming a little worried. At exactly what, she can’t put a finger on. ‘Is Miku… becoming too reliant on me? She’s acting more and more like a kid…’ Miku’s wet head on her lap makes her jump. The girl is laying sideways along the bottom of the bed and is looking out of the window whilst resting her head. Luka brings her fingers in to the girl’s hair and slowly massages her scalp. Miku snuggles further down into her affectionately. 

“I’m sorry I cancelled on you last time Miku…” Luka speaks in a fragile voice. Miku remains relaxed. 

“It’s okay.” 

“But it’s not… I saw your performance when you froze…”

After a few seconds, Miku fidgets slightly, but ultimately doesn’t really move. 

“Can you tell me why you cancelled?” 

“…No.” 

No more words are spoken for an undiscernible amount of time. Neither of them look at the clock. Neither of them care to do so. The silence in the room only makes their individual thoughts louder in their minds. They think so loudly that they begin to worry the other might actually hear their thoughts. Ridiculous. 

“What are you thinking, Miku?” 

“…I’m scared.” 

“What? Why?” 

Miku takes a moment to find the right words. When she does, she sits up, but continues to look out of the window, into the night. 

“My mother died when I was away from home. I came and found her. It was suicide.” 

Luka doesn’t say a word, only listens. 

“Everything was normal. Normal for us anyway… She sent me to the store to pick up some things. She seemed so happy – happier than she’d been in years. I hugged her before I left, as I always did…” Miku’s voice slowly becomes more hollow with every word spoken. 

“She overdosed on her medication. When my dad left her, she fell apart. The Doctor’s pretty much forced the treatment down her throat… metaphorically of course… I thought it was working, but…”

Miku then feels a warmth on the back of her hand. Luka squeezes it reassuringly and smiles. Miku looks at her face, adoring the effect it has on her – the same affect her voice has on her. Soothing. Secure. Luka speaks:

“You don’t blame yourself, do you?” 

“…No… she’d gotten better at acting happy. Far better than I ever could. I didn’t know she even wanted to…” 

Luka thinks back to the start of this conversation.

“But… why are you scared?” 

“I… don’t want to die…” Miku’s bright blue eyes are unmistakeably panicked. Luka holds her arms out, offering the only solace she has found to work. To her surprise, Miku shakes her head and averts her gaze, looking at the ground. Luka’s arms drop down to her sides, now at a bit of a loss for words. She tries to not to worry about what needs to be said, and instead tries to empty her mind. 

“…Miku, you are not your mother. A parent’s actions do not dictate their child’s actions. You are an individual. Again, you are not your mother.” After she finishes speaking, a sudden thought cuts into her mind. A thought which Miku instantly tests. 

“You’ll always be here, right?” Her naïve blue eyes return to Luka’s face. A knot tightens in the older girl’s stomach. ‘I know I’ll let you down Miku.’ Her words betray her thoughts:

“I will.” 

“Then I’m not scared anymore.” Miku’s statement is sincere. Even her smile bespeaks the same simplistic naivety. She once again rests her head on Luka’s lap. She truly believes in her. There’s no going back now. The pressure in Luka’s stomach expands further. Her mind rapidly thinks:

‘My actions could lead this girl to suicide. Anything I say or do could cause her to flip. I can’t do this. I can’t be responsible, not again. I need to run. Before it’s too late. But can I do that? Do I want to? What if doing so causes her to…’

“Miku?”

“Yeah?” Her light voice has become sleepy and dreamlike. Hearing it makes Luka’s heart swell. 

“…Sweet dreams.”


	4. The Sea of Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please be wary of distressing content.

Anxiety arrives with the dawn. 

Luka’s warmth is no longer there. Miku sharply lifts her head, ready to scream her name, but the distant tinkles of music halt her action. Someone is playing her piano. And they’re doing so in a way that far surpasses her own skill. The piece is delicate. Methodical. It is perfectly spaced, and charmingly unresolved. Miku recognises a number of exquisite chords, cleverly brought together with suspended notes, and flowing scales. She sneaks to the top of the stairs and crouches down to peer into the main hall. There, in one of Miku’s own nightgowns, is Luka, weaving together an exceptionally heart wrenching display of emotion. Each note rebounds and rings up and around the space, filling it with a beauty that has never been there before. 

Luka begins sharply hitting the bass notes. A few of them flow quite nicely, but others come across as incredibly aggressive. Further tension creeps as the tempo becomes erratic. What was once an established rhythm, is an ever increasing waltz. With a final, powerful scale equivalent to a Chopin piece, Luka’s song comes crashing to a close – a violent juxtaposition to what was first filling her ears. 

And then there’s silence. 

No held notes. No resolution.

Then finally, after at least 10 seconds, a peaceful pair of notes close the song. 

Miku zones out, watching an empty space whilst sat on the top-most step. 

Luka looks up the stairs with a face that is not her own. She sees Miku, but does not react. She simply stands up and heads out into the garden to greet the morning sky. 

Her bare feet are tickled by the messy blades of grass. The dampness and soft breeze that tickles her ankles and cheeks culminate to bring a cold chill through her body. She pays it no mind. Clouds swim through a dim blue sky. It is almost oceanlike as its depth of colour is well-lit enough to hide the stars, but not lit enough to truly look like the sky of daytime. The drifting clouds that flow closest to the horizon are framed with a mournful orange. Another juxtaposition. Yet one that is immeasurably gorgeous. 

Light ruffles come from behind her and stop at her side. She does not look at Miku. And Miku does not look at her. 

“Thank you for not leaving yet.” Miku's voice is as calm as the wind. 

“I have no reason to leave you.” 

Luka knows that what she said isn’t technically the right response. But, in her heart, she knows that’s what she wanted to say. 

“…Why won’t you share anything with me?” 

The question itself doesn’t surprise Luka. The surprise she feels comes from her inability to find an answer. Questions aimed at herself raid her thoughts. ‘Why can’t I tell her how I feel? Why can’t I just answer her? Why can’t I share anything with her…?’ She feels a frustration. It was relaxing until Miku came out. 

Light ruffles come from behind her and come to a stop, no longer audible. She turns to look at Miku, and finds her gone. ‘It’s not like telling her will really change anything. No matter what I say, Miku will only grow closer to me. So if I keep everything to myself… No. Stop trying to run away.’ 

Luka’s eyes return to their previous attraction. It is more like a sea of clouds now. The rising sun is slowly thwarted by the ugly grey pillows. She hears the rain falling before she feels it. 

“Luka?”

She slowly turns, ready to face her. Even in the dimmed light, she finds the sight beautiful. Perhaps more so. Miku’s smile is faint. The water of the sky touches her face, though she is unphased. She speaks:

“Come on, or you’ll wet yourself.” 

Luka simpers at the call-back. 

“Maybe I like it out here.”

“Then let me stay with you. I promise not to ask any stupid questions.” Miku’s tone poorly hides the desperation beneath it. Luka turns again and watches the clouds.

“Alright.” 

After a moment Miku’s arms creep around Luka’s waist from behind. She rests her head against her back. 

“It’s so cold…” Luka mutters.

“Like when we first met.” 

The taller girl chuckles coyly at the response. She can sense the curiosity whirling through Miku. 

“That song I was playing was the last piece of music I ever wrote.” 

“…Why did you stop writing?” Miku winces slightly after asking the question, hoping it wasn’t a dumb one. Luka’s momentary silence could indicate anything. Just as the pop-star is about to apologise, Luka speaks:

“Because no-one paid attention to me.” 

She knows what she said is ambiguous and so elaborates:

“I wanted to be a singer… but you became one. I wanted to be a dancer, but you became one. I hated you. When you became a massive success a year ago, I just gave up. I spent years educating myself to become the best I could be. I spent years honing my singing, my writing, and my dancing, only to have Hatsune Miku get noticed first. And you’re 4 years younger than me too.” 

The rain becomes the only sound for a few seconds. Luka feels the need to continue again:

“When I say no-one payed attention to me, I don’t mean literally. I got lots of attention, only the wrong type. Every time. I met so many ‘producers’, who were just men wanting to fuck me. So many lies. So much false hope… It got to me. Finally, I let one of them take me. I was desperate, Miku… Afterward, he tossed me some money and left. He didn’t need to do that… It was around that time that I gave up. Hearing of your quick success, and knowing that all I was good for was…” Luka can’t finish the sentence. Her face is soaked. 

“It’s… because of me?” Miku’s voice is tainted in horror. She has released Luka and stepped backwards. 

“No, no, that’s not what I-“

“-I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” The pop-star panics, losing control of herself. She doesn’t know what to do. She wants to scream. She wants to hurt. 

“Stupid girl!” Miku shouts and violently punches her own face. 

“Stupid!” She strikes herself again, making a small crimson splatter across her cheek. It is quickly washed away by the downpour. 

“Miku, stop!” 

The despair in Miku’s eyes is beyond anything Luka has ever seen. 

‘Stupid girl! You’ve ruined everything! LOOK at what you’ve ruined!’ Miku forces herself to listen to her thoughts and looks at her. Seeing Luka’s anguish only furthers her self-loathing. She sprints away from her, unable to look. 

“Wait!” Luka chases her into the house and through to the kitchen and freezes in the doorway.

“I MADE YOU A WHORE!” Miku screeches. She has a firm grasp on long kitchen knife. It is pointed at her own crotch.

“If I made you suffer, then I should too!”

“Please Miku, enough. I was wrong to react the way I did. I was hateful! And Jealous! You are not responsible!”

“BUT I AM! It’s because of ME that you sold yourself – because of ME that you let men put… It’s only fair, now it’s my turn to take it!” Miku lunges the blade at her womanhood.

“GOD, WAIT, NO!” 

The blade stops. Luka pants in astonishment. Quickly, she finds her words, trying to come up with something, anything to dissuade her. 

“I need you! Please, I really need you!” She tries to avoid saying anything that Miku could take and use against herself. The simplest phrasing could prevent Miku from permanently injuring herself, or worse. She brings her voice down:

“Miku, I told you I would always be here, and I want to be! I really do. I love everything about you, from your eyes, to your cute little butt! I have to keep you safe. Keep you safe from the nasty thoughts. Safe from the nasty people.” She smiles as though she’s talking to a child. Miku’s expression is still very difficult to read, though her hesitance shows promise. 

“I would like to share some things with you, is that okay?” Luka says the last three words in the same way she did when they first met. 

“…Can I keep the knife?” 

“Of course. Now the first thing is the name of the song I played earlier. It’s called: The Sea of Clouds.” 

Miku’s lips twitch a little. 

“It goes just like how today has gone. It started slow, and wasn’t raining. Then the big clouds came and made us feel angry, just like the song. And now look-” Luka gestures outside before continuing:

“-The sun has come out for us. Just like how the ending is quiet… Want to know something cool?” 

Miku nods quickly.

“The last chord I played was only two notes. Those notes are you and me. We got through the sea of clouds together. We’re both okay.” 

“Luka…” The knife clatters to the floor. Miku’s eyes scrunch up. A clear, fresh set of tears begin to crawl down her face. She needs to hide. Luka lifts her arms up. The familiar invitation. The pop-star practically jumps into her arms, wailing like a new born child. She blurts into the taller girls shoulder:

“I was so scared! I knew what I was doing, but-!” The rest of her sentence is completely undiscernible. 

“Come now, that’s enough. I’m here, just like I always will be.” 

The following wail of a cry makes Luka laugh a little. 

“Alright, you let it out…” She strokes her hair, still chuckling. 

Miku’s fusses gradually decline to weak, empty sobs. She doesn’t even feel sad anymore. Her throat just needs to hick out the last few lumps. She pulls her head back and looks up to Luka. 

“I’m proud of you.” Luka kisses her on the forehead after she says it. A hot need forces the pop-star to do something that she should have done a long time ago.

They kiss. 

Nothing has ever felt so very perfect. Luka doesn’t try to fight it, not even a little. They close their eyes, and feel their bodies relax against one another. Once Miku feels her lips against her own, everything washes away. Her self-loathing slips away. Her anger fizzles away. Then Luka pulls away.

“Hold on Miku, there are still so many things you should know before-“ Miku cuts her off with another swift smooch. 

When the blue-haired girl pulls back, she brings a finger to Luka’s lips. It’s surprisingly assertive for her. 

“Anything you could say will only make me love you more.”

“L… Love…” Luka utters the word in shock. 

“Yeah! That’s what you do to a girlfriend, right? You love them!” 

The older girl cannot scramble together a sentence. Miku’s confidence is befuddling to her. ‘Love? Girlfriend?’ These are words she never thought she’d hear associated with herself. 

“But what about Hatsune? She can’t be seen as not single anymore right? Especially with an intersex prostitute.” 

“Escort. And make that ex-escort!” Miku happily corrects. 

“But still-!”

“-Screw it! I don’t care about that stuff anymore.”

“But, what about your fans?!”

“My fans will embrace you Luka. Even if I don’t have a label to back me up anymore, I won’t need one. Not when I’ve got the best composer in the whole of Japan with me!” 

Luka has run out of rebuttals. Miku, with a slightly sulky expression, questions her:

“Why are you trying so hard to get out of this?”

“Oh Miku, I’m not, it’s just…” 

Miku’s face softens along with the tone of her voice. 

“Luka… You said you’ll take care of me. Thank you. But at least give me the freedom to make my own choices?” 

The taller girl actually finds herself smiling.

“Of course I will. I’m sorry, you really shouldn’t have to ask.” She suddenly starts laughing. Very loudly. 

“If you’re sorry then why are you laughing?” Miku teases.

“Because I’m happy!” 

It’s true. An elation fills Luka’s body that she has never before felt. And it is being caused by the very girl she once hated. The very girl she now loves.


	5. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have written a piece of music to accompany a part of this chapter. It is optional of course. There will be a link in the chapter telling you when to listen to it.

“I don’t want to let go of this joy... Hopefully, I will never have to. I don’t want to be without it – without Luka… She’s been away for another full week now you know… I just wish she would call me more…” Miku sits alone in the grass, relaxing against a small gravestone. A single tree shades her. 

“It’s so hard… I know it’s unrealistic to demand that she drop everything and live with me. I suppose… I don’t actually know that much about her. She probably knows everything about me…” She reaches up and wipes her brow. The sunlight has begun to poke through the leaves and blazes down onto her, warming her to the core. It’s a nice change from the constant storms as of late. 

“But I’ll break through these boring, repetitive days. I’ll show her how patient I can be. I’ll show you too Mom.” 

Hatsune Kanna’s grave stands in a giant, lush field. Not a person can be seen. In every direction just lays more wilderness. The sight is exceptional. 

Small winding rivers trickle across the landscape to the west, each branching off into their own small lake, or pond. The very limited number of pure white clouds are reflected through the clear blue waters. Every few meters of wild grass contains an assortment of pink and red flowers. Only a couple of steps away are a few orange and yellow ones, then a few more steps in the other direction are blue ones that match the sky – though these blue flowers are far fewer in number. 

Far off to the north massive mountains tickle the sky. Despite the scorching heat, a few of the peaks are tinkled with snow. A calming mist can be seen swirling around them. 

Twenty meters to the east the ground begins to slope. Gradually, it declines until it meshes with warm-coloured sand. A few yards further would have you enter a vast beach, which spans all the way to the north-east, and finally disappears behind the side of the mountains. She never knew how long the beach went on for. She and her mother promised that they would one day go and find out together. 

Lastly, the sight to her south is the most devoid of beauty. Though, this is in the eye of the beholder. Her mother found it the least attractive, but Miku loves it more than any of the others. They pale before it. Pure, uncontested grass. Green for the entire southern expanse. Simple. Calm. Her appreciation for it has never diminished. 

Miku buried her here, beneath the tree that stands in the middle of it all. 

“Touma released me from the label. My contract didn’t matter I guess… I don’t mind. We never liked those business men did we?” 

The wind is silent, practically non-existent at this point. She stands up and gingerly walks in front of the gravestone. The writing reads: Softly, I float.

“I hope you don’t mind if I stay around here for a while. I don’t want to be on my own.” When she finishes, she turns and waddles southward. Her rich, purple dress deeply contrasts her surroundings. The green blades brush against the middle of her shins with each step. It’s surprisingly damp to the touch. 

“Megurine… Luka…” She gently kicks the grass in a non-aggressive way. 

“Megurine… Miku…” A silly smile shyly slides onto her face. Her fingers start to fiddle together once again. Just thinking about it makes her giggle. Luka makes her feel again. As always. 

*

The window to the flat is open, just as she left it. She can see her cat, Monika, perched rather awkwardly on the sill. Was she waiting for her again?

“Hiii~” Luka calls lovingly to the animal. In a typical cat-like fashion, it just looks at her like she’s nothing. 

“Oooh, you wait ‘til I get up there.” She mock-threatens the creature whilst pointing her finger at it. 

When she reaches the door, her hand hesitates. She grips the key, but doesn’t want to put it inside. If Monika is on the windowsill, then he must be home… 

With a deep breath, she concedes. Up two flights of stairs, past the broken clock, and eventually, the brown and yellow door. Her home. She lets herself in. 

He’s lying on the sofa, arms sprawled out and sleeping. Luka actually finds herself sighing in relief. She sneaks her way into the bedroom and sees Monika hop back in through the window. In a flash, her bushy brown tail is rubbing against her legs in affection. 

“Yeah, you’d better be sorry.” She whispers. The cat meows in response.

“Shhh! He’ll freak if he knows you’re back inside.”

Small grumbles come through the wall. ‘Fuck…’ She thinks defeatedly. 

“Luka?” His deep voice calls much like how a teacher does when they’re about to scold a student. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” Her voice fluctuates in a lack of confidence. 

“Come here.” It is an arrogant sounding command. She gently scoops up Monika, and takes her back to the window.

“Go on… Don’t look at me like that, I’m sorry. I’ll get you some food as soon as I can, alright?”

The cat leaps onto the roof of a shed, and dashes out of sight. 

“Hurry up.” 

Luka spins around in a panic and obeys his command. She enters the living room to find him sat up with his hand against his head, presumably in pain for another idiotic reason. It’s now that her eyes catch the familiar view of needles and cans at the side of the sofa. She tries to suppress any reaction. He doesn’t even look at her when he speaks anyway:

“Get me some paracetamol or somethin’ would ya?” 

“Alright.” Quickly, she goes straight to the kitchen and rummages through the draws. The usual stuff is there; grinders, brand-less drugs, and other supplements. 

“There is none.” Luka calls.

“Then go fucking buy some. If you’ve got time to sneak around the house with that damn cat then you’ve got time to do something that’s actually useful.” Everything he says is delivered with this strange smoothness. It is and always has been the most unsettling thing in her life. Or at least it comes close. 

When she steps back into the street, the phone in her pocket vibrates once. A message from Miku: 

I hope you are safe xxxx

A harmless message. But then why does it hurt so much? She can’t bring herself to reply and slides the phone back into its home – her pocket. 

Luka feels herself filling up with that same negative energy. There is only one release. 

Monika skips up in front of her owners legs and looks up at her. It is a strangely human-like action, almost questioning in nature. Luka scoops her up.

“Come on, you can come with me this time.” She speaks softly. The cat doesn’t squirm, just lays on its back in her arms and looking around in curiosity. Luka hugs her close and heads to her only place of solace. The tip of her destination peeks out above all the other buildings about a mile from her. A long spire. Grand and beautiful. Not many would find true comfort in the middle of a city, but this building is more than just stone. 

Many people give her strange looks. Carrying a cat through the high-street is quite odd, even for a girl with pink hair. Oftentimes she is recognised, for better, and worse. Many greedy, familiar eyes pry at her. Dark eyes that never really left her memory, and likely never will. They are all the same. 

The large clock sits high up on the Cathedral - though she doesn’t acknowledge the time, only admires the glorious bronze shape of its hands. Carefully, she places Monika on the ground. The cat doesn’t run away, just stays on her heels. Loyal. This building is never used. Religion long abandoned this part of the city. She’s not even sure if the large clock tells the correct time anymore. 

Monika squeezes through the gate in front of her, and turns back to look at Luka patiently. 

“No need to show off.” 

She looks around, making sure no-one is too close, and then slides a brick from the wall by the gate. A small set of keys is hidden under a leaf in this gap. After letting herself in, she and Monika make their way deeper into the grounds. Despite the distant cars and rabble of the city, a wave of comfort washes over her. The deep green of moss creeps up many of the walls. The sun burns down onto the mostly overgrown courtyard. This area has a distinctly moist air to it. As though an intentional contradiction, the beams of sun alight many small dust-like particles through gaps in the overgrown shrubbery. 

A vivid wilderness in the centre of this grey city. 

She hops through the greenery, avoiding the wettest looking parts. Monika makes it looks easy. Together, they make it to the side entrance – the front entrance has been long broken, and is completely inaccessible. She glances over to a small graveyard to her right.

“I won’t be long.” 

She steps inside.

The rays of warmth only illuminate select sections of the inner Cathedral. It is well preserved. The great hall is subtly lit with a variety of oranges. It is a haunting, but fine natural lighting. It looks as though it could have been in service last week, save for the main entrance being slightly collapsed in on itself. The only wilderness inside this building has crept through this small pile of rubble, and has gradually tainted the walls around it. Nothing is perfect. 

Directly opposite the main entrance, far back, and illuminated by the sun is an old black piano. It sits where there was once an altar, back when this place was still active. Her brother used to take her here when she was young. They loved the stained glass windows, and the funny looking priest that used to tell them silly jokes after service ended. 

“Come on.” She calls to the cat and begins walking between the pews. Monika gracefully hops from one to the next. 

Luka comes to a stop before the black beauty. She rests her hand on its corner affectionately. More dust particles jump around from the touch. Her cat leaps on to the lap of a statue a few feet away, and lays down, making itself comfortable.

“Been a while.” Luka raises the back opening of the piano, props it up and takes a seat in front of the keys. She fluidly - but without thought - plays a few notes. Luckily, it is still in tune from her last visit, though only barely. 

Her mind goes blank. Her hands come to a rest on her legs. The moment creeps up on her. The warm solitude. The eerie comfort. 

She regresses. She feels. 

Little Kui. She imagines her face. It’s like she’s here. She closes her eyes, embracing the encouraging expression. 

“This one… is for you.” (Please listen to the piano piece before continuing - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sTRCqPKf3Sk)

Luka looks down at her hands. She lithely begins to stroke the keys, enabling her fingers to find the right combinations. When a harmony hits the mark, she moves forward, experimenting with the chords more and more. 

Her experiences. Her losses. The notes demand that she harness them. She must keep moving forward. No thought is put into what she plays, there is only emotion. Raw, unhindered emotion. To many, this may sound unintelligible. It doesn’t matter. 

Longing. Regret. 

She feels her way through them. She remembers being so small, so naïve. It clenches at her. 

Her fingers freeze. It hurts too much. She assaults the keys in frustration. 

She closes her eyes, and takes a second. 

…

…

With a calming breath, she continues, and finally, brings the piece to a close. 

Monika leaps down from the statue and hops up onto the instrument. She watches Luka with those bright green, human-like eyes. Her owner simply lifts her hand and scratches the back of her ear.

The buzzing in her pocket tears her away from the moment. Kui is gone. 

She whips her phone out and reads the message:

Where the fuck are you?

It’s from him. Her brother. Benjiro. He must be impatient, tired of waiting for her to get back with his drugs. She replies:

I won’t be long, I was visiting little Kui.

After she presses send, she realises what she’s done. Benjiro does not respond. 

She makes her way back outside, with Monika ahead of her this time. The cat comes to a stop in front of a row of gravestones. She joins her in front of the smallest, least intricate gravestone of all. There is only a name, and a date:

Megurine Kui

2009-2012

“I brought Monika this time. Told you I would.”

A guilt cuts deep into her stomach. 

“I haven’t given up Kui. I promise.” 

The pain worsens.

“I swear!”

A common struggle for Luka. A common lie. 

“I just… need to… practice more.” She says it through her teeth. She can’t say she’s given up on music to one of the only people that listened to her play. Her phone vibrates again:

Get away from her NOW

The message is from Benjiro. 

Luka’s eyes twinkle in torture. Her little sister’s grave looks so cold. So forgotten. But she could never forget. How could she? 

Luka swallows her pain. She forces a neutral expression, angry at herself for crying again. Aggressively, she wipes the liquid from her eyes. She selects Miku’s name from her phone:

I’m sorry, I need more time. Please wait for me.

The younger girl replies within seconds:

Let me help you! Just talk to me! 

She puts the phone away without replying. When she turns to leave, she sees Monika walking away from her. The cat leaps through the front gates and doesn’t look back. 

*

Luka, clutching a single bag of shopping, looks up to her flat window. The cat ignores her. 

“Yeah, I get it.” She sighs in agitation and lets herself in again. Up two flights of stairs, past the broken clock, and eventually, the brown and yellow door. It’s already open.

“Benjiro? I’ve got what you asked for…” She calls out. No reply. Cautiously, she enters. 

Pain. 

It seethes the back of her head, and neck. His hand is gripping her firmly, pressing her against the wall. The shopping crashes onto the floor, and her fingers pry against his. 

“You don’t get to see her.” Benjiro’s eyes bespeak a deep rage, though his face and tone are as still and dry as stone. His fingers tense around her neck. 

“I’m… sorry!” Luka struggles against him. 

“No, you don’t understand. Filth like you does not deserve to be near my sister. You don’t even deserve to think about her.” Sharply, he retracts his hand and she crumples to the ground. 

“She’s my sister too!” 

“AND LOOK WHERE THAT GOT HER!” 

Luka freezes. He’s going to say it. She doesn’t want to hear it. She brings her hands over her ears in denial. He crouches down and grabs her by the chin, forcing her to look at him. 

“Murderer. You are disgusting. Filth. Slut… Do you hear me?” 

She nods fearfully, but can’t bring herself to talk. 

“Good. Now tell me-“ He stands up, but keeps his burning eyes fixed to hers.

“-tell me… What. Are. You?”

A reply chokes in Luka’s throat. She knows what he wants to hear. Her body feels weak – her arms are useless. Her mouth is useless. She just gasps emptily. 

“You disgrace me. You disgrace Kui. You are a stain on the Megurine name. Go whore yourself out, it’s all you’re good for.” 

He snatches the bag from the floor and leaves her alone, accompanied only by his lingering words. 

Murderer.

Filth.

Slut.

Whore.

*

The sun is setting over the landscape to the west. The beautiful and varied flowers across the field are slowly becoming the same colour under the orange glow. Everything is darkening with each passing second. 

The deep green moss of the tree is starting to blend into the dark bark. In the dark, everything is the same. In darkness, imperfections are hidden. 

Luka is perfect. 

Miku wants to believe this. It is so hard to imagine her being anything but that. Though the darkness surrounding Luka has led Miku’s mind to wonder excessively. The mystery makes her think of the worst imperfections imaginable. 

‘Perhaps Luka has found someone better than me? Maybe she just wants to forget about me. No-one wants the pressure of a freak like me on their shoulders…’ 

Such are a few of Miku’s thoughts. Though, these thoughts make her angry. Angry because they are so selfish. So self-involved… It becomes a spiral of self-hate. She wants her mind to stop. 

She pulls out her phone. 

No messages. 

The time reads: 6:00PM. 

Rustling. Why is there rustling? 

“Hello?” Miku calls out uncertainly. 

“Hi there.” Comes a soft, but confident voice. A girl approaches Miku in the dim light. It looks like she can’t be much older than herself. She’s Chinese and somehow even shorter than Miku.

“How do you know about this place?” The blue-haired girl asks with a defensive tone. 

“Well it’s not exactly hard to find-“ The Chinese girl laughs before continuing:

“-Besides, I only live up there.” She points at the beach to the north-east, just before the mountains end. It’s the area Miku and her Mother wanted to explore. 

“…I see.” 

The new girl looks at the grave, and pulls an expression of realisation. She bows as she speaks:

“Ah, it’s an honour to meet you.” 

Miku can’t help but look confused. The face makes the girl giggle. 

“This grave appeared here one day. From then on, I’ve decided to come and visit it every now and then. The view is nice, but it must be lonely… You must be a relative of Miss Matsune?” 

A convenient story. Miku remains sceptical, but answers anyway:

“My Mom.” 

The mysterious girl nods understandingly. The seconds pass in silence. Miku occasionally glances at her, whom is always looking right at her and smiling. It makes Miku uncomfortable.

“I should go.” The blue-haired girl shuffles towards the tree to retrieve her bicycle from behind it. 

“Do you live nearby? It’s getting real late.” There is an unmissable implication in the girls voice. Miku looks to the horizon - the sun has disappeared behind it. Though she hates to admit it, she’ll probably get lost if she tries to go back. She furrows her eyebrows and inwardly curses at herself. There isn’t much of a choice here…

“I live in the city…” Miku says, playing along expectantly. 

“Well… Maybe you could stay at my place?” There is an unusual sweetness to the way she says that. It’s like she’s trying to come across as sincere and cute at the same time. 

“I dunno… I don’t even know your name.” Even though Miku is stuck for options, she wants to reaffirm the fact that she doesn’t really want to go with the girl. 

“Ma Ah Küm”

“Kum?” Miku repeats whilst suppressing a laugh. 

The girl frowns.

“No, Ah Küm. It’s my name.” 

Miku can’t help the immature smirk breaking its way onto her face… Then she bursts out laughing.

“You wanna sleep out here then?!” Ah complains in agitation. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’ve just never heard a name that’s so...” The blue-haired girl stifles the last of her chuckling, but doesn’t finish the sentence. 

“Well, tell me your name if you think it’s so much better than mine.” She grumbles. 

“Hatsune Miku.” 

“AHAHAHA.” Raw sarcasm. The facetious laugh rings clearly across the silent fields. Miku narrows her eyes… but then smiles. 

“Sorry Ah… Thank you for letting me stay.” 

Hearing Miku finally sound sincere makes Ah’s face soften up, and she’s quickly cheery again. 

“That’s a yes! Let’s go, it’s getting cold!” She turns and skips over to the beach. Miku then realises something.

“Hold on, you don’t know who I am?” 

“Are you that self-indulgent?” Ah replies with a snarky smirk. She follows this tease with:

“Miku, I asked what your name was, remember? Of course I don’t know you. Why, are you famous or something?” 

This reply actually makes Miku beam. 

“Sorry, it doesn’t matter. Bye Mom!” She waves to the lone grave. Her new friend bows respectfully and continues walking along the beach. 

Pushing her bike, Miku is soon alongside Ah again. The only sounds are the lapping waves, and their soft footsteps in the malleable sand. The two begin to chatter about unimportant things. They must have been talking for 20 minutes straight when a single vibration comes from Miku’s phone. 

But she ignores it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always appreciated! Thank you for reading.


	6. Feel

“I should thank you again, Ah.”

“There’s no need, really, I couldn’t leave a girl out there in the dark by herself.” Ah’s response is sharp, but rather blunt and condescending in its delivery.

“I don’t mean... I meant for... for visiting my mom.” Miku’s face says it all. Though she’s clearly choking down lots of words, there is no need for elaboration. Ah keeps her eyes forward and smiles. She makes a short and friendly ‘mm’ sound. Miku appreciates the simplicity of it and is happy that the subject is dropped so quickly.

Soon the pair have reached the sides of the mountain range. Miku sheepishly turns back to see if she can still see her Mother’s tree. She cannot. The sky has become almost entirely black, though the stars are far more visible here than in the city. A couple of clouds drift aimlessly underneath the moon. They are illuminated by its white radiance.

Clouds...

Miku remembers that she received a message, but didn’t look at it. In truth, she’s angry. And scared. Luka’s behaviour makes her feel so... jittery. Too much left in the shadows. Too many thoughts left only to multiply with no context. ‘Maybe it’s best to wait...’

The two continue to walk in silence. Ah can easily sense the inner turmoil of her new friend, but isn’t sure about how she should approach it. Miku is... weird. After being alone for so long, even Ah can ascertain this.

Eventually, the beach ends.

“Over there.” The Chinese girl points to a small shack-like house in the darkness, it looks as though it overlooks the entire ocean. Barely any details can be made out about its design, other than the fact that it looks rather small. There are no lights. It almost looks... austere.

Ah pushes open the door. ‘Does she not lock it?’

“Put the bike anywhere you like.” Ah smiles faintly, probably because of the rhyme.

“I... can’t see anything.” As soon as she finishes, Ah’s face is lit up in the darkness by a small flame. A match.

“Close that door, would you?”

Miku steps inside and rests her bike on the wall by the door, then closes it. The flame disappears behind Ah’s slim body as she turns and walks further into the room. One by one, she lights a variety of lamps and candles.

“I wouldn’t normally light the candles, but... I haven’t had company for a while.” Ah smiles serenely – one of her most sincere looking actions so far. Miku examines the room as the light gradually fills it. It looks... barren - save for the abnormal amount of furniture. There is another room in the back – a bedroom?

“I didn’t think you’d live alone...”

“Oh?” Ah stops dead in her tracks. “Why?” She asks with a friendly aggression.

“You seem good at... talking to people, that’s all...” Miku whispers quietly. Ah lights the fireplace and then walks up to Miku, stopping only a foot in front of her. The close proximity is difficult for Miku, but she tries not to look away. It’s only now that she has managed to get a proper look at her face. Ah pulls a pair of glasses out of her pocket and slips them on. ‘Is she examining me?’ Miku wonders.

“I live alone because I want to.” There is a strong finality to the statement. Miku doesn’t dare to ask more. Ah’s face softens slightly, and her lips pull into a frail smile. This expression suits her so well. Her tanned cheeks have a few tiny freckles on them, which are lifted up slightly due to the smile. Her eyes are a blazing light brown. They are intense, despite the calm face she wears. Her hair is a rich, warm chestnut colour that frames her face with a straight fringe and very long, simple bangs. The fringe comes to a stop just above the frame of her glasses.

“Enough of this staring contest.” Ah jabs playfully, and skips off to what looks like the kitchen. “Sit down you awkward girl. Would you like a drink of something?”

“Please.”

They both decide on coffee as Miku takes a seat on a solitary chair. She finds it strange that there is so much furniture here. So many questions...

“But... you have no electricity here, right?”

Ah spins around with a big bowl-looking thing in her arms. It is filled with water.

“That’s right!” She exclaims confidently. Miku watches her walk over to the large fireplace. “But who needs electric, huh?” Ah places it on a rail over the flame to boil.

“...Ah?”

“Yeah?” She replies in a chipper tone.

“I just... I’m sorry, there’s so much I don’t understand.”

Ah sighs reluctantly. She sits down on the 3 person couch by herself.

“Why don’t you sit over here? It’s much warmer.” She motions an invitation to Miku. She doesn’t want to move... but Ah’s been nothing but kind so far. Apprehensively, she walks over to and sits next to the Chinese girl... It really is warmer... Miku intentionally avoids looking at her.

“I’ve always loved being by myself, so much so that I immediately left my parents when I turned 14. That was 4 years ago-” She adds that last part in a friendly, matter-of-fact way. “- and I haven’t seen them since. I found this place all by myself. It was abandoned.”

“How did you... survive?” Miku starts watching her carefully, examining her face, her eyes and her movement.

“They were both travellers and campers. Dad was a doctor too. I kind of learned everything I needed to already.”

Miku leans in, riddled with more curiosity.

“But I don’t understand, why would you love being alone? You had both parents, you should never have-“

“-Please don’t pretend you know me.” Ah smiles faintly whilst saying it. Miku flinches away. Ah speaks again:

“My parents weren’t neglectful. They weren’t unkind-” Miku is about to interrupt, but a raised finger stops her. “-They were good people. I should probably say ‘are’ good people, but y’know, whatever. I didn’t feel anything, Miku. They made me feel nothing. No-one did.” When Miku is sure she’s stopped, she asks:

“How do you mean?”

“I mean what I say. I had no attachment to any of the people in my life. Everything was just... nothing.”

These words swirl through Miku’s mind like a whirlwind. She can barely fathom their meaning. Sure, the meaning is simple enough, but...

“I...”

“Don’t understand?” Ah finishes her friend’s sentence with a snarky smirk. Miku smiles weakly. She looks almost apologetic. Ah continues: “Don’t worry about it okay? It’s just the way I was born.”

Miku looks over to and through the window. She can clearly see the ripples of the ocean due to the bright moonlight. The reflection of the moon distorts beautifully.

“Have you ever felt anything?”

“...No.”

“...”

“Try not to act too weirded out!” Ah jokes cheerily. The ex-pop-star laughs delicately. 

“No, it’s not that... you just... didn’t need to tell me all of that.”

“I know. But I don’t want to hide anything.” She says as she gets up and picks out some mugs before placing them on the old wooden counter. After putting on heat-proof gloves and taking the water bowl to the kitchen, Miku asks her another question.

“Why have you been so kind to me then?”

The question catches Ah off guard. She visibly stops what she’s doing just to think about it. 

“I... don’t have an answer to that.”

Miku’s initial response is unexpected. She isn’t worried, or angry. She’s happy. This honesty is so... real. It feels amazing. She can see that everything about Ah is completely genuine. There’s nothing being hidden. There’s nothing being kept in the dark.

“Here.” Ah hands Miku a mug. The powerful smell of caffeine is very welcoming, especially because of the dropping temperature.

“Thanks.”

The two sit a few inches apart, quietly watching the fire and sipping their drinks. Eventually, Miku hops down on to the carpet and sits just in front of the flames. She lifts her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them.

“I’m sorry, it must be really cold for you...”

“I’m okay, besides, don’t you get cold?”

“You get used to the temperature after 4 years.” Ah says simply. She gets up and heads over to a room in the back. A few minutes have passed when Ah returns with a cosy looking blanket. Miku smiles with a warmth that matches the fire.

“Thank you... again...” Miku reaches up and gently takes the blanket from her new friend, who then goes to sit down in the solitary chair. After the big blanket is securely wrapped around her body, she looks over to her. Ah’s expression is completely blank as she stares into empty space. It is a hollow face. Miku watches her with creased eyebrows.

‘Nothing...’ Miku begins to think. ‘To feel... nothing...’ Her heart hurts. ‘I think I understand what that’s like... but to be that way for an entire lifetime...?’

“You don’t want to sit with me? It’s much warmer.” Miku offers whilst opening a space in the blanket for Ah. That frail smile forms on the Chinese girls lips. ‘Is it fake? It looks so real...’ Ah comes over and slides next to her. Their legs are touching in this close proximity. They can feel each other’s warmth. Miku brings the blanket around Ah’s delicate shoulder and encompasses her in further heat. She keeps her arm around Ah’s small body.

Ah looks up to Miku. Her fiery, light-brown eyes are just as intense as last time... ‘Why? How can she look so full of emotion? How?’ Seeing her so closely should feel so wrong... It doesn’t. Feeling her lightly breathing against her should feel so wrong... It doesn’t.

“If you keep looking at me like that then I might Ah Kum.” Ah shatters the moment with the awkward, self-deprecating pun. Despite this, Miku can’t resist the beam of a smile on Ah’s face, and chuckles happily. Hearing the laughter makes Ah’s beam widen even more. It is... serene. She looks Miku up and down. Miku notices part of Ah’s bottom lip curving inwards. ‘Is she... biting her lip?’ Seeing this adorable action suddenly brings Miku crashing into reality.

The guilt hits her like a train. “Oh God.”

“What is it? What did I do?” There is a massive amount of worry in her tone for a girl that feels nothing.

“You did nothing... oohhh, I’m so stupid. I’m so sorry.” Miku’s chest begins to feel heavy. She snaps upright and walks over to the window. The sudden and sharp coldness makes her immediately wish she was right back next to Ah. The thought makes her head pound. ‘Stupid girl.’

“Why are you sorry? Tell me what’s wrong.”

The familiar panic that she hates so much begins to permeate through her body. She needs Luka.

‘I need Luka’.

“Where is Luka?! I need Luka!”

“What? Who’s Luka? Miku?” Her burning eyes try to figure out what’s going on inside Miku’s icy dilated ones. Ah approaches her meekly.

“She hates me! I’m a stupid girl!”

“No you’re not. Will you calm down?” Ah tries to soothe her by holding her shoulders, but this makes Miku flip out even more, she flails aggressively, shoving her away in fear.

“Woah! Okay, why don’t you call her then? You have a phone, right?”

The idea fills Miku with energy.

“Yes!” She pulls out her phone. There, on the screen, is that unread message from her:

I need you

And that’s all Miku needs. She hits the call button.

“Hi Miku.” Soothing and secure. Hearing her voice expels all the negativity from her body.

“Luka...” Is all Miku manages to say. She watches the ocean through the window.

“I need you, when can I see you again?” The hint of desperation in Luka’s voice is slight, but noticeable enough.

“Whenever you want to, I promise I’ll be waiting.” Miku’s tone falters as another surge of guilt creeps through her flesh. It festers.

“Thank you. Thank you for being so patient, I’ll tell you everything you want. You just have to wait one more night, I don’t want to say these things through the phone...”

“I understand Luka. I can’t wait to see you... I love you...” 

“...I love you too.”

The phone call comes to a close. She turns around.

Ah is sat in front of the fire in the same position Miku was in only a few minutes prior. Miku returns to her side again and pulls the blanket back over them both. The warmth is different. It is no longer a comfort, but an itch. Regardless they both sit together, unmoving.

“You aren’t stupid Miku.”

The ex-pop-star puts her chin on her knees defeatedly. ‘I don’t deserve such kindness’ Ah stands up, Miku watches her carefully. Ah’s eyes are as intense as ever. But her face...

“Goodnight.” Ah says simplistically and walks into the room in the back. Miku notices that she leaves the door open. ‘An invitation?’ Her thoughts run wild again... ‘Why is she inviting me?’ She follows her, slightly angrily.

This new room is far more emotive than the other. There’s a vast number of elaborate wooden carvings, ranging from large, to small. Many of them are faces, others are direct inspirations from nature. Trees. Flowerheads. Birds. Not only does this bedroom look lively, but it also contains a huge number of books, and paintings that decorate the walls and shelves. Seeing it all only agitates Miku further.

“You can feel! I know you can!” 

“Goodnight Miku.”

The intruder sighs angrily. She looks around at many of the faces. They are all highly emotive and familiar. They are all of the same two people. A man, and a woman. Chinese.

“Why do you confuse me so much?! I almost kissed you! And I LOVE someone. HOW are you so good at manipulating me?!”

“Please don’t shout. You need to stay calm.” Ah’s reply is soft and smooth.

“But... Ah! I am so lost here!” Miku whines. The Chinese girl just faintly smiles and then points to the wooden sculpture closest to Miku. It is pulling the exact same expression as Ah. She looks to the next one. The expression is completely blank - hollow. The next is pulling a bright and beautiful smile - serene. Another one is smirking – snarky. At the end of all of the rest is a small mirror.

It is clear. These faces are her parents faces. Ah remembered them so well... She practiced... She practiced their emotions.

“...I’m... Sorry...”

“You don’t have to be, I don’t feel anything.” The expression Ah pulls after saying it is odd. Miku can’t put a finger on it. Now that there is absolutely no doubt about Ah’s true person, Miku finds herself reflective. The more she thinks back, the more Ah’s actions don’t make sense.

“Ah... What is it you want? If you can’t feel, then why did you visit my Mom’s grave so often.”

“...Boredom. I hoped I would meet someone, just one person.”

“You can feel boredom?”

“Yes.”

Miku takes a moment to piece things together in her head. 

“Then what do you want with me?”

“I know what you’re getting at Miku.” Ah’s tone is very soothing, so much so that it borders on the ludicrous. “But I’m not evil. I know what the right thing to do is. Leaving you alone in the dark would’ve been bad of me.”

“Yes... and thank you again for that...”

Ah faintly smiles once again.

“Why are you smiling?”

“To make you comfortable, is it not working?” Ah’s face falls. Hollow.

“No, it’s okay, you’re really good at it.” Miku beams at her. “It’s just strange. Somehow... you’re such a good person...”

“...Well... to be honest, after we sat together on the floor in front of the fire, my intentions became a little more... self-interested.”

This piques Miku’s interest. Ah continues:

“I find you sexually attractive.” Ah pulls a sweet smile. It’s an expression Miku hasn’t seen yet.

“You-”

“-can feel that? Of course I can. Come on, do you think sex is an emotion?”

Miku feels a little humiliated after being put down like that. Then she feels her face grow hot. ‘She... wants me?’ Ah immediately picks up on the cute blush.

“Don’t tempt me Miku.” Ah smirks her snarky smirk. 

“Sorry...” She turns away sheepishly. Despite this behaviour, Miku feels resolute. She's never been more certain of herself - more certain of what she truly wants.

“...Luka is very lucky.”

Miku apprehensively glances back, analysing Ah curiously. 

“Go and sleep.”

They finally bid each other goodnight. Miku returns to the living room and lays on the couch before pulling the blanket from the ground and over herself.

‘Trust... is weird. I’m weird... I trust Luka... I trust Ah. I believe in a sociopath... I don’t think she’ll hurt me. I know she won’t. Sure, she made a few white lies, but... I know she’s a good person. She even told the truth in the end...’

Miku smiles to herself. ‘I actually trust someone other than Luka.’ She snickers to herself in surprise. Something inside of her opens a little. It’s like a tension being relieved. She thinks of Luka. Her face... Her voice... They've never been clearer in her mind. 

Soon, she dips off into a peaceful sleep.


	7. Patience

There she is. 

Luka. 

So strong. 

So angelic. 

Infallible. 

Perfect. 

Her very presence is lustrous. She brings her hand to Miku’s face. The touch is enrapturing. It seems to cleanse her body - her mind - of any festering bothers. She brings Miku’s head against her chest, cradling it. Luka’s heart beats against her ear. A slow, peaceful rhythm. Hypnotic.

Every couple of beats is accompanied by a harsh thud. 

It keeps happening. 

‘That’s not a heartbeat…’ 

Miku opens her eyes. A bright light burns at her through the window. She shields her eyes in pain.

“Geez, get some curtains…” She complains groggily. Her eyes slowly adjust to the strange room she’s in. ‘There’s so much wood in here…’ The thudding is coming from outside. 

“Ah?” Miku drags herself off the couch. The fireplace has long since burnt out, but fortunately, the heat of the sun seems to be particularly friendly with this house. She moves to and opens the front door. The air is surprisingly sharp, and snaps at Miku’s skin.

Long, chestnut hair flutters in the wind. She slams down an axe, cleaving a piece of wood in two. Despite her tiny stature, Ah seems surprisingly strong… 

“I guess you wouldn’t know what time it is?” Miku calls to her. Ah turns around and beams at her. It looks like another new expression… 

“Good morning to you too… or afternoon? I don’t know.” Ah looks up at the sky. “Midday? You’ve been asleep for so long...” 

“Midday?!” She quickly pulls out her phone, but strangely, sees no messages from Luka. It is indeed roughly 12:00PM. When she hits the call button it goes straight to voicemail. “You could at least charge your phone Luka…” She mumbles irritably. 

“Miku?” Ah calls softly. 

The girl in question jumps a little, having admittedly forgotten she was there. 

“What is it?” Miku says in an equally light voice. 

“Will you come back?” 

“Of course! You have to meet Luka after all!” Miku smiles brightly making a little happy gesture with her arms. She can barely contain her jubilation. ‘Luka! I’m going to see Luka!’ 

Ah faintly smiles. But then it changes. 

“I would like that… Go on then, get moving!” It’s clear she’s trying to mimic her new friend’s happiness. Even her new smile is the same. It’s something Miku has to admire. 

*

The day is fair. Bright and blue. Though the wind bites at Miku’s cheeks, she pedals home with only one goal in her mind.

Finally, she approaches her gates. As she steps from the bike, she notices a small, dark lump, on the ground, in the garden. 

“Is that…?”

Miku rushes the entry for the code, but gets agitated when it doesn’t work. She takes a breath, and punches in the numbers patiently. The gates swing open. 

Her excitement flourishes with each step closer. ‘It’s Luka, it’s gotta be!’

…

‘Is she… snoring?’

Sure enough, Luka’s placid form gently rises, and falls with her breathing. Her smooth lips are gently parted. Her closed eyes look so peaceful… Miku doesn’t want to wake her. She’s never seen her so… free of emotion. There’s no terseness. No frustration. No love. 

Just… Peace. 

But Miku is feeling selfish.

“Hey!”

Luka’s eyelids twitch and an obvious frown creases onto her unconscious face. Seeing the expression actually brings out a smile from Miku. 

Unable to control herself, the ex-pop-star leaps onto her girlfriend, her knees on either side of Luka’s waist. She holds herself up with her palms on the floor at either side of Luka’s head. 

Her great lengths of hair tickle at Luka’s shocked face. The, now, wide, blue-ey-violet eyes are a welcome sight. 

“Miku! Don’t do that!” Luka angrily, but gently flicks Miku on the forehead as a punishment. 

The blue-haired girl merely giggles, enraptured by the sight of her. Any expression Luka pulls is flawless. Luka is perfect. Miku’s intense stare actually brings a little discomfort to the downtrodden Luka. 

“Sorry.” Miku’s apology is cheery. She sits upright, still sat on Luka’s stomach. The ex-escort brings her hands to Miku’s moderate hips. She tenderly rubs her thumbs against them. 

“Where were you?” 

Miku doesn’t want to lie. Her face hardens slightly. 

“I was… staying at a friend’s house…” 

“A friend?” Luka immediately detects that there is a little more to it. 

“Yeah, I’d call her my friend now… She was at my Mom’s grave… Actually, she really wants to meet you.” 

Something about what Miku said seems to soften Luka’s expression. Possibly because it implies that Miku told this girl that she has a girlfriend. Or perhaps it was the talk of a deceased relative. 

“I trust you, Miku.” 

Luka hears herself say the line and feels strange about it. She thinks about how she would have used this line in the past. She would have used it as a form of emotional blackmail. Before Miku can respond, Luka cuts her off:

“Let me rephrase – I’d love to meet her too.” 

This brings back Miku’s adoring gaze. Her bright, blue eyes lazily gaze into Luka’s once more. Any words on her tongue have dissipated entirely. 

“It’s kinda funny though, you waited outside of this house for me once, I guess this was your payback?” Luka smirks playfully. An inviting expression. 

Miku crushes her lips to Luka’s. It is something they have both needed for far too long. Luka’s hands slowly explore the grooves and dips of her partners body, all the while, Miku is firmly gripping Luka by the cheeks. When their lips part, Miku is the first to speak:

“I just had to that.” She states with noticeably heated cheeks. “Y’know… That day feels like so long ago… I can’t really remember it that well…”

Luka immediately knows why: It was a night that contained a few of Miku’s zone out moments. The kind where she looks empty, and lifeless. But seeing the joy on her girlfriend’s face now just makes her all the more content. So much so that she feels like being a little risqué. 

“Well, Miku…“ She begins circling Miku’s stomach with a finger. “Last time, I recall you wanted a little… something?” 

Miku’s blank and innocent face only serves to motivate Luka.

“I think you wanted me to… clean you.” She puts a particularly large amount of emphasis on those last two words. Miku isn’t quite naïve enough to miss the duality behind their meaning. Though, a bunch of niggling thoughts arise in her head: ‘Why did you need me so suddenly? What happened that made you come here after being away for so long?’ 

None of these questions are asked… Mostly, because Miku doesn’t want to ask them. ‘I can be patient. So I will be.’ 

“Now, what are you getting at, Luka?” Miku’s voice is almost teasing. Luka gives her strangely sultry sneer and plays along:

“It is more what I want to be getting into that you should be thinking about.” Her sentence is smooth, and flawlessly spoken. 

Miku leans down so their lips are only an inch apart. 

“And what would that be?” 

This display of eroticism impresses Luka. She lets her hands move across Miku’s slender body of their own accord. They find themselves sliding down her back. When they reach their goal, they squeeze, lustfully. 

“Of course you’d pick that.” Miku chimes with a little sass as her butt is groped. 

“Well, wouldn’t you pick the same part of me?” Luka chuckles.

The ex-pop-star intentionally takes a few seconds, letting her eyes wander over Luka’s body. They drift over her slim waist, her generous chest, her delicate neck… 

“I think I’d choose… this first…” Miku brings a single finger to Luka’s bottom lip and presses it lightly. The insinuation is compelling. The blue-haired girl quickly elaborates with an intensity she never knew she could have:

“I’d want those eyes… I’d want them looking up at me… Looking at me whilst I-” 

The sound of the gates buzzing interrupts Miku. The girl’s look over to a lone man stood waiting just outside. 

“Ugh! Let’s just ignore him.” The ex-pop-star says playfully. Luka gives her a look. It’s another face that requires no words. Miku groans: 

“Alright, fine! But only because he can already see us.” 

Luka grins lovingly as she watches her girlfriend stomp off towards the gate.

“Do hurry! I wanna hear more…” Luka says that last part to herself more than anything.

*

“It’s good to see you again, Ms. Hatsune.” 

“I… know you…” 

“You do, but was I worth remembering?”

Miku racks her brain, trying to cite exactly where she knows his face from. He is middle-aged. He looks like the run-of-the-mill type of business man. He makes her kind of angry…

“Oh… you’re the business guy from like two months ago… What do you want? And how did you get this address?” Miku asks with an unhidden uncertainty. 

“Still just as untrusting as ever I see…” 

Hearing this actually saddens Miku slightly. ‘Maybe I haven’t grown up as much as I thought…’ The man continues:

“Your ex-manager told me of this place when I asked about you. It’s information he shouldn’t have given me, but that man seems easily corruptible… and a little angry at your mentioning.” The business man makes an exaggerated thinking face. When Miku speaks, she tries to smile:

“Touma can go fuck himself.” 

“Language, Ms. Hatsune.” Though this voice is not the business mans, it comes from behind Miku. Luka comes to a stop next to her girlfriend with a bright, but cheeky smile. “Can we help you?” Luka asks the man.

“Ah, yes, we are a touch side-tracked here. I’m a busy man. Hatsune Miku. I want to give you the financial support to reignite your career.” 

Miku is immediately frowning. Even Luka’s smile falters a little bit. 

“I may be a business man, first and foremost – however - does that make me a bad person? What good would an unhappy client do me? All that would do is cause me problems. Keep everything fair, then everyone wins, but most importantly, no-one loses. Wouldn’t you agree?” 

Luka raises her eyebrows in surprise, then looks down to Miku. The ex-pop-star aimlessly watches the ground, though, her face is not plain, or empty. It is lost in thought, lost in her independent thinking. Seeing it fills Luka with pride. Miku speaks:

“Can we do this another time?” 

“Absolutely, Ms. Hatsune, though I must request that you come to a decision in two weeks, I am not made of time.” It is a friendly request. ‘Maybe this guy’s not so bad…’ 

They exchange contact details, and arrange a number of meetings, in which Miku demands that Luka be present for. The business man, whose name is revealed to be Kenmochi Hideki, is completely compliant. 

“I look forward to hearing from you both soon.” Hideki bows, and trudges over to what must be his car a little ways down the street. 

Miku thinks about her old motto – don’t trust those you have no reason to. 

‘I think I need to update that a little.’ 

*

“Hey Miku…”

“Uh-huh?” 

“Why did you insist that I be there too?” Luka’s thoughts catch up with her and she is unable to stop herself from asking this question. Miku sits back on her couch and stares at nothing in particular while she thinks. Luka sits in a chair opposite from her. 

“Why do you think I did?” 

Luka’s eyebrows begin to crease, a little agitated at the response. 

“…Well… I want to say a number of reasons, though I’m not sure what to believe. Maybe you don’t feel like you can make a decision by yourself? You don’t trust yourself?”

Miku cutely shakes her head whilst closing her eyes. 

“Umm… You don’t trust him then?” 

She shakes. 

“Well, I don’t know!” Luka complains in exasperation. “It’s so hard to read you now.” She crosses her arms and looks off in an exaggerated sulk. 

Miku grins calmly. 

“I want you to be there because I do.” 

“No other reason?” Luka asks weakly. A couple of seconds pass as Miku’s face flickers from emotion to emotion.

“…There is one thing…” 

“Tell me, please.”

Miku’s mannerisms become notably more reserved. 

“I only want to do this, if you do it with me…” 

“This?” Luka curtly questions her. 

“…Music.” 

“But, why?” Luka stands up and comes over to Miku. “You’ve always been so good by yourself, you don’t need anyone else.” By the time she’s finished, she is kneeling in front of Miku, and giving her a kind expression. It is an action one would take when talking to a juvenile.

The ex-pop-star watches her girlfriend’s eyes closely. She remembers what Luka said. About how she used to hate her. How she gave up her career because of Miku. No matter what Luka says, Miku can’t forget it. But at the very least, she has begun to cope with it better. Cope with the guilt. The guilt of ruining her life, even though she holds no blame. Her mind still wanders, wildly, about what Luka’s home-life could be. She thinks of Luka’s raw talent. She thinks of the raw happiness Luka brings her. The raw emotion. 

Finally, Miku settles on a faint smile. 

“Because you have the skill. And God do you deserve all the success in the world…” 

Luka realises instantly what’s going on. Sympathy. Guilt. She regrets ever saying those things to Miku… Just as she is about to get angry, she closes her eyes, allowing a calm to envelop the negativity. 

“I need you, Luka.” A faint whisper. 

When Luka re-opens her eyes, Miku is sat forward, leaning in close to her face. 

“…And I need you, more than you could ever know.”

Miku flashes her teeth. It is a radiant smile. As ever, Luka can’t stop herself from pulling one too. 

“Good! Now can we please stop being so serious?” 

Luka’s head cocks sideways slightly. 

“Don’t pull that face at me Luka, I wanna have fun!” Miku looks pleading and makes her eyes go puppy-like.

“Gah! Alright, just don’t make THAT face then, you’ll break my heart.”

Miku’s body wiggles in delight. She quickly sticks a kiss on Luka’s nose. 

“Well, what is 'fun' then?” Luka slumps on to the couch next to the bluenette. 

… 

Miku’s silence essentially forces Luka to look at her. ‘What is that expression all about?’ Miku’s eyes are slightly narrowed, and her lips parted. Her jaw looks to be clenched. All of these seem like indicators of an intense want, but… it looks kind of funny. 

“What’re you smirking about?!” Miku whines with weak, excessive arm movements, which dishevel her hair. 

“Stop trying to be sexy!” Luka laughs heartily. 

“I’m not good at it…?” The ex-pop-star’s lips curve into an exaggerated, sullen frown. 

“You don’t need to try.” 

“Oh shut up.” Miku bashfully dismisses the compliment. Luka sits cross legged, facing Miku, and leans in close. 

“It’s true, you’re just so cute, it’s weirdly sexy… you don’t really have to do anything…” She raises her hand and begins to brush some of Miku’s wild hair from her eyes. Just as her blue eyes begin to soften, Luka jolts upright.

“I believe you wanted a shower, or something of the sort?” The suggestiveness in her tone is unmistakable. 

Miku narrows her eyes fiercely, only this time, the expression is truly seductive.


	8. Confidence

Luka takes her by the hand and leads her upstairs. A bubble inflates in Miku’s stomach when she sees the white door. ‘This isn’t really happening? Is it? Finally?’ Luka turns around just before they go in. 

“Actually, you go ahead, I want to do something quickly.” And just like that, she slinks into the bedroom, and out of sight. Miku pouts angrily, but obliges regardless. 

Never has a bath looked so scary. 

“Mmmm…” Her eyes flicker between the taps, and the shower fixture. ‘The bath is huge, but not very comfortable… The shower is nice, but it would be awkward for us both to stand under the one shower head…’ 

“Daaah, screw it.” Miku twists the taps on and begins to load a ridiculous amount of soaps and eccentric liquids into the flowing warmth. She drags her fingers up and down the ripples. 

The bubbles grow. 

The water rises. 

The steam billows. 

Soon, the room is packed with an aromatic, soothing mist. Miku reaches behind her back and tugs on the knot of her dress. She shrugs off the material, letting it collapse on to the floor around her feet. The very air hugs at her body. It is refreshing. She sees that her mirror has become thick with condensation and gives it a big wipe with a towel. 

Her reflection is uncertain. Her confidence seems lesser, but not gone. She pores over her fragile body. She has never had many issues with her physical appearance, but if she had to choose one then she knows what it’d be. It would be her chest - or lack thereof. When she sees Luka’s she gets envious… But admittedly not as much as she used to. 

‘At least I can wear lots of different types of dresses comfortably though.’ She smiles sparsely at herself and removes her underwear. It feels nice. Like a burden being lifted. 

With a calm sigh, she steps into the bath and twists the taps off. ‘When was the last time I had one of these?’ She thinks, sinking into the inviting bubbles. 

“Hi there.” 

Luka’s voice makes her splash in surprise. She peers over the rim, towards the doorway. 

There she is. Beauty incarnate. Even in the misty room, Miku can make out her perfections… Her… naked perfections… Blue-eyes expand at the sight. 

“Aww, never seen a naked girl before?” Luka teases confidently. Miku can’t bring herself to answer. The older girl chuckles and quickly changes the subject: 

“Quite the sauna in here, let me join you.” The ex-escort closes the door and strides over to the side of the tub. The bath is indeed very large. It could honestly be more accurately described as a small jacuzzi. Miku’s eyes are fixated on only one thing as Luka steps into the opposite end… One, big thing. It’s hold on Miku only dissipates when it disappears beneath the waves of bubbles.

“You look hungry.” Luka winks. 

“Ahhhaha…” Miku’s laugh is remarkably uncomfortable. She can feel Luka’s toes against her shins, gently stroking them. All they can see of each other is their head and neck. 

“Cosy?” Luka beams happily. Miku shakes her head, making a few bubbles fly up into the air. Her girlfriend begins to blow them back. She only stops when the biggest one hits Miku at the end of her little nose. 

“Come to me? Please?” 

Miku momentarily hesitates, but acquiesces. She crawls, with her head sticking up through the water, until she reaches Luka. The ex-escort lifts her arms and sits up a little, allowing Miku to rest her head against her upper chest. Luka feels warm, even through the heated water. Her body is soft, but tough. Comfortable and comforting. 

She relaxes herself against her, embracing the intimacy of the situation, and trying not to make things awkward like she would have once done. Luka’s arms and body envelop her tenderly. She could probably fall asleep then and there. 

“I’m ready.” Luka says flatly. 

The ex-pop-star’s body jolts stiffly and quickly snaps her head up to look her straight in the eyes. 

“No need to panic, Ducky, I don’t mean that.” Luka begins to fiddle with the wet hair resting on Miku’s shoulder.

“Ducky?” 

Luka just smiles. 

Miku giggles quietly, deciding she likes the nickname. Luka’s fingers against her skin calms her down drastically. Such a simple, tickling motion, yet so soothing. 

“You mean you want to tell me everything, don’t you?” 

Luka watches her for a moment. 

She feels pride. For Miku. Again.

She then feels shame. For herself. Again.

“Yes… I do…” It is clear that this is going to be difficult. Miku surmises as much. She pulls back from the embrace, their eyes meeting. Miku’s face flickers with a hot intensity. Though, juxtaposing this are the trickles of bubbles resting on her arms and tinkled across various parts of her chest. Her deep oceanic hair clings to one of her small breasts. A seriously sensual sight, but one that is clearly unintentional. Even Luka does not notice. Miku’s tone is firm: 

“Don’t feel bad.” She stares at Luka, watching her face for a moment. The violet-y blue eyes flash with plea. Miku immediately starts up again: “Anything you say will only make me love you more. I will never go back on my word-“ She leans in closer. “-Never.” 

Luka audibly gasps, taken aback by the seriousness. ‘Is this really Miku?’

“But, I’ve treat you so badly, I kept running away, not letting you in.” Luka’s lip trembles once and she immediately bites down on it. Even now she’s trying to supress it. She shakes her head in frustration. 

Miku just smiles. She moves back, sitting on her knees. 

“It’s okay to cry, you know.” Her icy blue eyes have never looked warmer. She raises her arms. 

The invitation. 

The tiny girl, offering the largest support. Luka gingerly comes forwards and wraps her arms her girlfriend’s dainty torso. Despite their size difference, Luka has never felt smaller. Her large breasts smother Miku's entirely, but even so, Luka wants nothing more than to feel like a child again. To feel safe. At least for a moment. 

Miku’s little arms close around hers and they sit in silence. Occasionally, Luka’s body spasms, with quiet hiccups as accompaniment. 

They part, Luka’s eyes flecked with red and pink splotches. She brings a hand up and cups Miku by the cheek. The ex-pop-star’s eyes are unchanged, still warmer than the water around them. Luka lets out a half cough - half cry sound, and then envelops Miku’s head in a hug. Her face is smashed against her bust. 

“That’s all I needed, I promise I’m ready now.”

Miku’s response is muffled by the bountiful bosom. 

“Oh, sorry…” She pulls away.

“Don’t be…” Miku drawls in a content stupor. Luka’s laugh is like a drug. 

She divulges everything to her partner, and while it’s clear that many things still cause excruciating pain to mention, she doesn’t leave anything out. She talks about the accident that killed little Kui. About the church. About the piano. About her cat. The information keeps going. She only briefly mentions Benjiro, her Brother, but quickly goes back to Kui. Luka has never talked about her Sister and eventually, she becomes caught up in a happy, nostalgic trance, forgetting the pain. She talks about how she wrote music for her. 

She talks about the promise she made. To become the best piano player in the world. 

*

The bubbles have begun to die down. No sound comes from either girl. They both sit side by side, with their heads gently resting against one another. Even though they are both almost completely visible under the water, there is no tension between them. Miku begins absentmindedly plaiting and then unplaiting Luka’s locks over and over. The recipient closes her eyes.

“Luka…?”

“…Yeah?” Her response is slow and sleepy. 

“I’m sorry, but… when you mentioned Kui…” 

Luka’s eyes suddenly open wide, after a moment, they shut again. 

“Go on.” A calm request. Miku smiles weakly, retracting her hands and smoothing out the pink hair. 

“Why do you think you were responsible for what happened?” 

Luka doesn’t react. 

Her breathing remains steady.

Her eyes stay closed. 

Her mouth opens:

“She’s my sister.”

Miku’s eyebrows crease as she frowns. She moves in front of Luka, looking confrontational.

“Do I blame myself for what happened to my Mom?” 

“…Well, no, but-“

“-But nothing!” Her arms angrily smack down against the water. Luka is stunned. 

“Miku… you don’t understand…”

“Of course I don’t, I’m just a kid.” She skulks down and folds her arms over her chest. 

Luka doesn’t reply. 

The water has gone cold.

It takes a minute for Miku to finally cool down with it. When she brings herself to look at Luka again, she finds her just spacing out. 

“…It’s your Brother… He made you blame yourself, didn’t he?” 

Luka doesn’t reply.

She doesn’t need to. 

Miku knows. 

She rises up from the bathwater and steps out. After wrapping a towel around her body, she grabs another, picks up a stool and a hair brush, and sits behind Luka. The motionless girl allows her hair to be pampered. 

Notions begin to swim in Miku’s mind. ‘How can he be so… emotionless? So evil? I hate him. Damn sociopath… Does he even feel anything?’ The final thought stings her a little after she thinks it. Ah didn’t need to be so kind. And she literally couldn’t feel. ‘He must be a psycho…’

“Miku?” 

She suddenly realises she was brushing Luka’s hair a little too rough. 

“Sorry…” The ex-pop-star pulls a contrite face, even though Luka can’t see her. 

“No it’s okay, I just wanted to say something.” 

“Say it then.” Miku chirps, attempting to become positive again. She runs her fingers through Luka’s mane and then begins to rub the ends with the towel. It is a pale pink and looks beautiful alongside her hair. 

“You don’t blame yourself? Ever?”

“Nope.” A simple response with an emphasis on the plosive. Luka knows that Miku wasn’t responsible for her Mother’s suicide. She knows what Miku is trying to say. But after so many years of having it beaten into her head, it’s not as easy as just changing how she feels. 

“I… Thank you. I’ll do better for you, okay?” 

“Lean back for me.” 

Luka obliges. She expects Miku to begin drying the roots of her hair, but is quickly pecked on the lips.

“You helped me become confident, I know you can do it. I know you can beat him.” 

She looks at her upside down girlfriend and smiles. That same pride swells beneath her breast. Even if she needs to see a therapist, she will. 

No matter what it takes, she must let go of the past. 

For Miku.

For Miku.


End file.
